


Hey, I Think I Know You!

by princewarmachine



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Choking, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, brief molliarty, mentions of abuse, takes place during the first season, timing of events strays from canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 29,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23871856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princewarmachine/pseuds/princewarmachine
Summary: After moving from Ireland and living in the states for a little over a decade, you decide to move back into your childhood home after inheriting it from your grandmother. Unable to fully deal with the guilt, you seek out a housemate. In doing so, you find your childhood friend Jimmy, ready and willing to move in with you.James Moriarty, going under the alias James 'Jimmy' Morrien, has a plan of his own.
Relationships: James Moriarty/Male reader, James Moriarty/Reader, Jim Moriarty/Male Reader, Jim Moriarty/Reader, Moriarty/Male Reader, Moriarty/Reader
Comments: 50
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi readers! Sad note, but it must be said:   
> I've decided to stop working on this fic, at least for the time being. I have lost motivation to keep working on it, and have a ton of other ideas I want to work on and this fic just takes up too much energy. I also just don't feel confident in where the story will go, and would like to just keep it as it is rather than just make it more messy. That being said, I hope you enjoy/enjoyed what I had here.   
> Thank you to the people who followed my story, your comments and kudos literally made my day. I hope you can understand my decision.   
> Ciao <3

I am so fucking screwed. I’m thirty four years old, a freelance web designer and I’m absolutely unable to afford and fully process the house I just inherited. Though, don’t get me wrong, I’m fully happy and excited to be able to live in such an isolated place. I’m familiar with the woods and town around it because it had once been my childhood home. But, making the rash decision to move from Montana, all the way to the outskirts of a small town in Ireland, living on a huge piece of forested land? It’s a dream and nightmare come true.  


Personally, I know the states weren’t working for me, and a week prior I thought some alone time and nostalgia would help me feel more satisfied in life. But, now that I’ve placed my bags down in the living room of my born again home, I think I’ve made a grave mistake.  


I’m still not over my grandmother’s death, I don’t know when I’ll ever not feel guilt and sadness. The house feels so empty. 

After placing down my boxes and waving the lovely moving van goodbye, I found myself falling quickly asleep on the simple floral couch that had been cold for weeks and was also, though I hardly cared, on the edge of being thick with dust. 

When I awoke it was still dark outside, and I could see that I’d left the lights on. I sat up, going to my computer and trying to pinpoint my goal: How will I find a housemate?  


I search: Good ways to find a housemate.  


Craigslist...? Well, it seems easy enough, and it’s free, so… I’ll put up an ad. Why not?

**Looking for a housemate!**

**Hey, I’m actually in a crazy situation…**

I reread my advertisement over and over before I posted it, hoping my personality didn’t come off as… too flashy? I’m not sure, I just really want this to work. This needs to work, or else I won’t be able to afford taking care of this house and just being able to live in general. I mean, I don’t have a stable job…  


Fuck it, I’ll post it.  


I sit there, staring at my computer and twiddling my thumbs, the anxiety and adrenaline rush from writing up my situation has gotten my eyes bulging and hands sweaty. What am I waiting for? It’s four in the morning, no one's gonna reply to the post yet. I close the laptop, lay down on the couch, and stare at the ceiling. I need to try and go back to sleep, I achieve this in what I can only assume was in half an hour. 

When I woke up, I sat up quickly and stared at the clock. 

**10:55 AM.**

I blink before rubbing at my eyes, groaning. I crack my back and neck, feeling like shit but thanking God that I don’t have a real job that I would have to get up early for.  


Oh, yeah! I should check my Email!  


I cracked open my laptop, slowly taking in the amount of information I was getting. I actually had several messages. At least seven people were actually showing interest in being my housemate. I honest to God read through them all carefully, but found no interest in any of the people. A lot of the messages seemed sketchy, or just flat out not tasteful. I felt like giving up when suddenly, a new Email notification popped up, with the topic:

**Hey, I think I know you!**


	2. Chapter 2

I felt a chill go down my spine. ‘I think I know you’? What a strange introduction… something told me that I should ignore it, but the majority of me knew I had to check it out.  


What was even stranger was the email of the sender, ‘imtoayrr17@gmail.com’... I clicked on the email, and read out the message splayed across my computer screen. 

**First off, sorry for the strange topic. I really needed to grab your attention because there was no way I would miss an opportunity like this! I’m pretty sure I knew you from fourth to eighth grade. We went to Hearts Orchard Middle School together.**  


**I remember your name after all these years, haha! Hopefully you remember mine:**  


**James Morrien.**  


**Or as you might’ve known me, ‘Jimmy’.**  


**This is crazy, I thought I’d never talk to my childhood friend ever again.**  


**Obviously, if I’ve got the wrong guy, ignore me ;). But please send me an email back if you remember me, I think I’d be a good housemate!**  


**Or we could just make plans to meetup and talk about what has happened these past years!**  


**I really do need to move into a new home though, maybe you’re my saving grace?**  


**I’m idly waiting for your reply.**  


**JM**

I reread the message over and over. Holy shit, Jimmy?! I remember how sad I was when Jimmy disappeared without any warning half way through eighth grade. He was one of the coolest kids I’d known, and was a bit of an outsider like me. I felt genuine excitement at the realization that I could possibly see my old friend again. I quickly began to write my reply.

**Jimmy! Oh my God, it’s been so long! I would love to meet up.**  


**Time and place, you name it.**

After a few emails back and forth throughout the day and exchanging our numbers, the plan was set. I was to meet Jimmy at Gardens Gates, the only vegan restaurant and cafe in town at two PM tomorrow. This was a great opportunity to actually unpack my clothes from my suitcases, and organize them in the dressers that had been left behind by my grandmother. When I finished organizing, I sat down on the springy mattress with a floral quilt neatly tucked over it. Staring down at the quilt, I questioned how soon I should try redecorating the place… Eh, I’ll think about it later.  


For now I’ll just get some rest. It’s already midnight.

When I woke up, I glanced over to my alarm clock. Nine AM! Hey, that’s an improvement in my sleep schedule. I sat up straight, feeling no rush to get out of bed just yet. I had plenty of time to get ready for meeting up with a long lost friend. 

Around 12:30 is when I left the house, it’d taken me longer than I’d thought it would to actually choose an outfit.  


It’s an hour walk from my house to town, and I had a feeling it would take me at least fifteen minutes to even find the cafe.  


Hopefully I’ll be able to purchase or even rent a car in the next month, God knows I don’t want to have a whole goddamn journey every time I go in and out of town. Though, I will admit, it would provide some killer exercise. 

When I entered town, I could feel the sweat of an hour walk down a forest trail beading my forehead and lower back. Damnit, I really was out of shape. I mean, why wouldn’t I be? My job has me stay indoors 24/7. I just hope I don’t sweat through my clothes. I wipe away the sweat from my brow, and carry on with my day.

After walking around for a bit and asking a sweet woman selling honey for directions, I found myself at Gardens Gates in only ten minutes. I glanced up and then around myself, feeling out of place and realizing I had no idea how Jimmy looked, and if he was even here yet. I decided to send him a text to the number he’d given me. I hope he didn’t give me the wrong one...

**I’m here, are you inside?**

I leaned against an empty bike rack, smiling and nodding at a couple that walked by. The realization that I was in public started to make me feel anxious, and caused me to glance down at my phone every few seconds. I opened the message as fast as I could once I saw it. 

**Get us a table, I’ll be there in about five minutes.**  


**JM**

After reading the message, I shoved my phone in my back pocket and headed inside. Not many customers were there, and a kind of husky looking guy with braids was behind the counter, waiting to greet me.  


“Hello, sir! What can I get you today?”  


I made my order, grabbing a menu for Jimmy and sitting down at a table for two in the back, away from the windows. 

Two minutes passed before I felt my phone buzz, and I opened up the new text message. 

**Just parked a block away, which table did you get?**  


**JM**

I glanced around the cafe before replying.

**I’m at the table closest to the bus tub.**

I felt my nervousness pitch up a bit knowing that Jimmy was mere minutes away from meeting me. I decided to reread the menu, glancing at the door once or twice. Only did I look up a final time when I heard the bell above the entrance ring, and I finally saw the Jimmy I’d been waiting for.  


He was wearing a pink button up with knee length jean shorts, as well as sunglasses. He looked like someone who had been preparing for the summer heat a long time. I could tell that he was squinting behind his wide sunglasses, looking at the menu above the barista. He then glanced around, making what I only assumed was eye contact with me and letting a smile pop up against his face. That’s the only way I can think to describe it, really. It was sudden, like seeing me was a pleasant surprise. He walked over to our table, sitting himself down in the chair across from me and wiping away the sweat that’d beaded on his forehead with the back of his hand. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he broke the silence.  


“Wow,” he leaned back in his chair, arm propping up against it while his leg folded over the other. “This is crazy,” He let out a very audible laugh. It sort of tumbled out of him but it felt appropriate, not abrupt at all. “You know, I was extremely excited to see you again. I was worried I wouldn’t recognize you, but lo and behold! You’re still the same old you, even at just a glance.” I let myself smile and exhaled a soft chuckle, pushing my chair closer to the table. His voice was warm and welcoming, and my mind was going in loops trying to adjust to the deeper voiced version of Jimmy. The mood in his tone was also a bit shocking, though I’d gathered that he had become quite confident over the years just from his texts.  


“I know, right? You don’t look much different either! I mean, we’ve obviously had some years added since we last met.” He smiled wider at me, nodding in agreeance.  


“Of course, and with those years I’m sure we got quite a bit of stories to tell,” he looked down at the table, picking up the menu and skimming over it. “But first, let me decide my order.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Lets see, lets see…” He raised his brows, letting his forehead wrinkle comically as he looked at the options. “Hm, hmm… You know, the blackberry smoothie actually sounds quite nice.” He turned the menu towards me so I could see.  


“Have you been here before?” I asked, looking at his sunglasses to make some quick eye contact.  


“Naaaaw,” he trailed off, sitting up straight and looking up at the barista, who set my order down in front of me. I thanked him and he smiled before putting his attention to Jimmy. Jimmy had taken his sunglasses off and tucked them into his shirt pocket, and I could see how dark his eyes were. They were so dark, they almost seemed black, showing only a hint of burnt sienna when the light hit just right. It almost gave me chills, just the mere sight of his eyes put a strange tingle of nostalgia in the back of my head.  


“So, have you decided what you want, sir?”  


“Ahm, well, I think the blackberry smoothie would be lovely,” he leaned back again, smiling sweetly up at the barista and handing over the menu, “please.” The barista smiled politely;  


“I’ll see to it.”  


Once we were left alone, Jimmy leaned forward to look me in the eyes, a goofy smile on his face.  


“Oh, this is so exciting!”  


His expression and obvious demeanor of not taking himself seriously made me grin, I just couldn’t help it.  


“If you haven’t even been here before, why’d you choose it?” I asked, now genuinely curious. I took a bite of my food, still looking at him and waiting for a response. Swallowing, I added; “Are you vegan now?” He chuckled at that.  


“Naw, not at all! I had just driven past so many times I thought I might as well try it. It gets boring just going to the same places, over and over.”  


I nodded, taking another bite. I watched his eyes follow the food into my mouth. I got a bite size piece, and extended it to him.  


“Want a bite?” I asked, raising a brow.  


“Well, of course!” He dramatically inflected, leaning forward to eat it right off my fork and then lounge back in his chair, merrily chewing. “Oh, that’s decent!”  


“Right?” I took a sip of my water, looking at the condensation before paying mind to Jimmy. “So, Jimmy- you still go by that, right?”  


“Well, now that I’m a full grown adult, most people call me Jim, buuuut… I’ll give you a pass.”  


“Excellent,” I continued. “So, Jimmy, what’ve you been up to? What exciting path have you led in my absence?” He smiled at me, but kept his expression and eyes on me for what I felt was a second too long before he gave an answer.  


“Ahm, well, I actually have been a mildly successful writer for a few years now. I have a cult following- I’ve traveled to other countries to sign copies: Germany, France, mostly England…”  


“Really? What do you write?”  


“Short stories, I like to publish collections based on theme.”  


“Oh,” I was pleasantly surprised, raising my brows and nodding. “What’re you doing back here, then?”  


“I just moved back. I’ve been staying at the Cozy Den for about… five days? That’s why I was searching for housemates on Craigslist. Crazy how we moved back around the same time!” He ran his fingers through his hair as he spoke. His eyes stayed focused on me when he talked, barely ever straying away. Staring back at them, I realized how big and serious they seemed. “So, how about you?”  


“Ah, I’m a freelance web designer.” He gave me a sort of blank look, to which I rephrased, “I design websites for people, it’s tough… That’s why I knew I needed someone to help support me once I moved back from Montana.” Jimmy propped his head up on both hands, seeming genuinely interested.  


“Oooh, so you became a big tech bloke, huh? What were you doing in Montana, anyways?”  


“Well, first I was there for school, then once I graduated I just kind’ve stuck around.”  


“Mm,” He tilted his head, “Well, I’d be happy to help support you. I’ve always been in love with your grandmother's home- I missed it when I left town all those years ago.”  


“Yeah, what was that all about?”  


“Oh, the Morrien family just wanted to move out of town, dragging me along…” Jimmy rolled his eyes, sighing. “We moved to London, and I went into private school.” I stayed silent, letting the new information roll over in my head.  


“Well, I think you’re definitely the best candidate for being my housemate,” I said, honestly. He grinned, his eyes smiling as well.  


“I’m glad,” he looked away from me when his smoothie was placed in front of him. 

Once me and James finished what we’d ordered, I started bussing our table.  


“Why, thank you!” He chirped, standing up and scooting our chairs in. “I’ll pay.”  


“Oh, you don’t need to, I can pay for myself-”  


“Naw, I insist,” he was already getting out his wallet and going to the counter. I followed, feeling flattered that he would do such a thing.  


After paying, he put his wallet away and looked at me.  


“So, shall I drive you home?” He asked, with an expectant smile. I noticed a blackberry seed in his teeth and pointed it out. He seemed to break confidence for a second before laughing and licking at the wrong spot with his tongue. I laughed as well, shaking my head.  


“Naw, other side!”  


“Oh,” he swiped it with his tongue, licking it off quickly. “Did I get it?”  


“Mhm!”  


“So, shall I drive you home?” He continued, already heading out of the cafe door with me trailing behind.  


“Ahm, sure!” I nodded, walking beside him as he led me to his car. It was a good looking silver car, not really sure about the brand. I never really pay attention to those types of things.  


The car ride back was nice, he kept commenting on the forest scenery and joking around. When he pulled up in front he looked at me, saying;  


“So… what do you say? I come up here around noon tomorrow with my things, and start moving in?” I stared at him hesitantly before nodding quickly.  


“I don’t see why not! It was nice to see you again,” I stuck my hand out to shake his, and he returned the gesture.  


“Likewise,” he watched me exit the car, waved, and then drove off gently down the wide forest trail.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day at 11:30 AM I sat quietly on my couch, sipping a warm drink I’d made for myself when I heard a tapping on my window. I glanced over, seeing Jim smiling and waving. I set down my cup and got up to open the door.  


“Yes, Jim! Need any help with your luggage?”  


“Yes, thank you! Here-” he walked to his open trunk, waving me over. When I got to his car, he handed me two suitcases, “my clothes.”  


“On it,” I carried them inside, going up the stairs to the guest bedroom. When I put them on the bed and went back to the stairway, I glanced down at Jimmy in the front entrance, wheeling in a big suitcase. “Anything else?”  


“Nooope! That’ll be all-” He got red in the face as he picked up the suitcase with both arms and walked up the stairs. It became obvious to me that maybe he didn’t do a lot of heavy lifting.

I laughed loudly, spilling a bit of wine as I refilled my glass.  


“God, who in their right mind would be so creepy to their idle?” I asked in mild disbelief. Jimmy had been telling me stories about his strangest fans. He’d provided the wine, and we’d both gotten a fair buzz from it. I was definitely more lightweight than him, which was surprising since he wasn’t a big guy at all.  


“I don’t know,” he slurred, his red face in a giddy grin. “But hey, she paid fair money to have me sign her book.” I hummed, nodding with my eyes closed and taking another sip.  


“This begs the question…” I slyly suggested, raising a brow at my friend.  


“Oh, pleeease ask!” He insisted, chuckling into his glass as he took a drink.  


“Have you, by chance…” I started to giggle abruptly, trying to finish my thought, “have you slept with any fans?” My question was met with a cackle from Jimmy, who leaned his head back and gasped between his bursts of laughter.  


“Don’t-” he wheezed, trying to compose himself, “do not ask questions you don’t want the answers to!”  


“Aw, come on,” I reached over the table to punch his arm gently. “Tell me, I love a good story!”  


“Okay, okay,” he cleared his throat, straightening his back and making a serious face, his eyes heavily lidded. “James,” he spoke with a soft, feminine, German accent. It was oddly good for a drunken attempt at an accent. “I know this may come as a surprise, but your darkest stories… they peak my interest. They pluck at my heart, stirring arousal-”  


“Naw, stop.” I shook my head, exhaling a chuckle. I was met with a snicker from James as he tried to keep his composure.  


“Oh, really?” He deepened his voice, playing the role of himself. “You know, when I had first spotted you… I could feel a macabre spark-” He cracked a smile before going back to his serious, mockingly seductive expression, “flowing from you.”  


“You’re a womanizer?!” I guffawed. He nodded, going back to his relaxed demeanor.  


“Ooh, how I’ve womanized many times. Each conversation being along those lines… The goth women, they looove me.” I shook my head at him, grinning ear to ear.  


“Does this seductive demeanor run in the Morrien family?” I asked, quickly finishing up my glass and setting it down, deciding I’d had enough for the night.  


“What?” Jimmy stared at me with slight confusion, a strange and uncanny sobriety spread across his face and deeply settled in his eyes.  


“Does it, ahm, run in the family?” I reworded my question, wondering if I had said something wrong. Then, a flicker of recognition danced in his eyes before he smiled, and nodded.  


“Oh, why of course. Where else would I get my looks and charm?”

…

Jim leaned against the living room wall, arms folded in front of his chest. His breathing was calm, his eyes focused and steady on his new housemate’s dormant body on the couch. Looking down at the old ‘friend’, he wondered how long this would last. How long he’d be able to stay in this house before he’d have to run off and cut himself out of this man’s life for good. Months? Weeks? He wasn’t certain, but he had a hope that this adventure of his would end up successful. Jim was grateful for the roof over his head, but more than that he was grateful to luck out with such a perfect starting point in his true research in solving his problems. Even luckier still, was the fact that this man, who seemed quite comfortable and loyal around James, didn’t even remember or recall his true last name. Perfect.  


Morrien, so stupid and simple and yet this sheep of a man couldn’t see the wool that Jim had draped over his eyes. To be fair, it was a dice roll, in case he’d remembered Jim’s ‘true’ name- Moriarty. Oh, but how victorious and sweet it felt for Moriarty to be the winner, the one above it all, again.  


Being mostly sober, left to his own thoughts and the sound of his acquaintance snoring, Jim decided that he might as well start putting the silence to good use. He glanced up to the clock on the wall, being internally revolted that it was already thirty minutes past midnight. Sighing, he decided to clean up their glasses and put the empty wine bottle under the sink to be disposed of later.  


His fully awake mind took his feet up the stairs and to his room, where he began to unpack his clothes and supplies he’d need for research. He glanced over to his open walk-in closet, smirking at the thought of him pinning and stringing together his research on his newest and most important fascination, Sherlock Holmes. James placed down the last piece of clothing on his bed, recalling when he’d first discovered the genius that is Holmes, how Holmes had discovered his little taxi driver that he’d so delicately thought out. That poor, filthy bastard, pushing cowardly and idiotic people to suicide all for the little trust fund he’d been hooked on through Moriarty. It made him smile, thinking about how his children must be feeling, having to visit their father at his grave now. Having to face the absence that was their father. James wondered if they really missed him, or if they were rejoicing over the money they’d gotten, rather than celebrating the life that’d been lived. Or… what if they were unhappy with the money they’d gotten? Cursed and mentally rolled their eyes at how useless their father had been in the end. Oh, it made Moriarty tingle and buzz humorously at how truly ironic and pathetic that would be.  


Though, he’d never care enough to find out for himself. Besides, it was more fun to theorize about it.  


As he put away his clothes into the seemingly ancient dressers, he felt a certain nostalgia. He glanced around his room, remembering the times they’d play hide and seek. Jim remembered how predictable the boy had been, not much more predictable than he is now, truly. James, every single time, would find him hiding and cowering under the bed of the guest bedroom. It made Moriarty squirm with irritation, just thinking about how simple that plebeian's mind was as a child. It made him wonder why he’d been friends with him, why he’d bothered… though, it proves to show that everything has a purpose. Today, the simpleton’s purpose was to elevate Moriarty’s mystery, and give him a safe and temporary home to escape to when he wasn’t studying Sherlock and the circles of crime in London. 

After unpacking and putting away everything, he sat at the edge of his bed, the restlessness nagging in the back of his mind. It was almost two in the morning, and he now wondered what the hell else he could do with his time. He hoped that with no true objective for tonight, that maybe sleep would come soon, so he began to undress for bed. He slipped off his socks, rubbing his tired feet briefly before moving onto his pants, staring down at his bare legs when he took them all the way off. A buzzing sound played on loop in the back of his head, his eyes almost bulging as he tried to focus on how to make the buzzing stop. How to make the buzzing into pure thoughts, into sheep that he could count, into fading black for him to fall asleep to. He stood up, pacing his room as he slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. When he finished, he let the shirt slip off from his shoulders and onto the floor, being left with only himself and his boxers. James slowly walked up to his bedroom window, the curtains hadn’t been draped down yet so he just stared into the dark reflection of the glass, which showed the nighttime forest. A pitch black void that stared back at him through his own eyes. Stared him right in the face, in the form of his small frame. This small, mortal form that held all his soul and genius.  


He got closer to the window, so close he could feel the cold night radiating from the glass and onto his skin. The buzzing continued in his head.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s been four days since Jimmy moved in with me, and it’s been more quiet than I expected. He seems to be an incredibly hard worker, and by hard I mean hard on himself. Sometimes when I wake up late at night to go to the bathroom or to get a glass of water, I can see that his light is peeking out from under his door. One time when I was walking back from the kitchen to my room, I could hear him typing away on his computer. I leaned up against his door to try and listen for anything else, and then the clicking of his keyboard stopped abruptly. My breath caught in my throat as the silence from the other side of the door became deafening, but it was interrupted by the fully awake voice of Jimmy, asking me;  


“Do you want to come in?”  


With my free hand, I hesitantly opened up the door, letting it slowly drift ajar. I stood in the doorway, holding my glass of water and squinting at the lamp light next to his bedside before putting my attention to him.  


“It’s three in the morning,” I reminded him, my voice soft since I was only three quarters awake.  


“I know,” he sighed, closing his computer and turning fully to look at me. He wasn’t wearing any clothes except for his boxers, grey boxers… Jimmy moved closer to the side of his bed, his small frame hunched over, his finger tips touching lazily. His eyes seemed to be studying me, trying to think of what to say next. “I’m working, I can’t sleep.”  


I stared at his seemingly blank expression, taking a sip of my water, and pursing my lips when I swallowed. “I get that,” I paused, stirring through my mind to find the right words, “but it’s like this every night. It doesn’t bother me, it just worries me a lil’. Do you have insomnia or something?” I leaned up against the doorway, waiting for his reply.  


He seemed to think over my words before chuckling, shaking his head and straightening his back. “I’m not sure, ahm, I’ve never been too concerned about it. It’s just been this way for as long as I can remember.”  


“When we had sleepovers, you would usually be the first to fall asleep.” I commented, raising a brow at him. “Is something worrying you? You can talk to me, you know. I’m your friend.” His eyes widened and lidded in a split second of reaction, his fingers interlacing.  


“Oh, come on… If there was something wrong, I would’ve told you. I’m not a secretive person,” he reminded me, smiling softly and getting up from his bed. Jimmy walked over to me, standing in front of me so that I could look right into his big eyes. He looked honest.  


“Yeah… you’re right. Sorry to have bothered you,” I took another sip of my water, glancing over to my own bedroom door, then back to Jimmy. “I guess I’ll head back to bed then. Do you need anything before I go?”  


“Naw, just get your rest.”

When I woke the next morning, it was nine AM and the sun was shining innocently into my room. I stretched before getting out of bed, stumbling out to the hallway and rubbing my eyes. The smell of something cooking was gently coming from downstairs, which I decided to investigate after going to the bathroom.  


When I reached the kitchen, I found Jimmy pouring batter into a sizzling pan, looking over to me and grinning.  


“I felt bad for worrying you so much, thought I’d make you some breakfast.” He stated, looking back at the food and humming. 

…

James stared at the boy across from him, he seemed so happy eating those pancakes. It made Moriarty’s stomach twist a little to see such bliss and obliviousness live in one human being. Ignorance and trust being completely gained, all through food. Which, to James’ slight delight, was exactly what he had predicted and planned to happen. Last night was strange, his housemate’s suspicion made James’ own paranoia spike up in a frenzied rage. He needed to be a good friend, needed to do what friends do best: gain trust and loyalty.  


“Are you going to eat?” The voice broke his concentration, making him fully focus on the face of the man in front of him. “Or are you going to keep staring at me?” This question made Moriarty’s brain feel hot, but his quick acting skills made him laugh in embarrassment.  


“Sorry, just tired! Makes me space out,” he cut himself a bite and placed it in his mouth, chewing slowly as he stared down at his plate. James could feel the other smile at him.  


“What’re your plans for the day?” He asked Jim, continuing to eat as he waited for a reply.  


“Ahm, well, no plans really. Just going to draft out and type up some more of my story.”  


“What’s it about?”  


“My story?”  


“Mhm, what’s it about? It seems like you work day and night on it.”  


Jim smiled at that, thinking about all of his research and communication he’d been making for hours on end these past few days. All of the progress he’s made. “Well, it’s about this young girl, who lives in a town like our own, and she feels like she’s being watched.” He observed the other man as he hummed at that answer, hoping that the vagueness was enough for him. It probably would be, knowing how simple he was-  


“Can I read what you have so far?” He asked, taking a big bite of his breakfast and chewing. James glanced at his lips as he chewed before replying.  


“Well, no… Sorry, it’s only a draft right now. I don’t like others reading my drafts.”  


“That’s alright, I don’t mind it being unfinished. I could even critique it for you-”  


“I said, ‘no’.” Jim’s face had a smile on it, but his tone was cold. It made the other man’s body physically stiffen up. “I really would rather finish and revise it before… showing you.” Moriarty tried to warm up his voice, seeing that he may have been a bit too stern.  


“Touchy,” his housemate remarked, rolling his eyes at Jim. This made Jim’s ears burn up with pink, cocking up his brow. “Anyways, I was going to ask if you wanted to take a walk in the woods today. I’ve gotten all of my work done, and I thought it’d be nice to go out and get some fresh air. Though, if you're busy, I completely understand.” His tone was a bit sarcastic with the last statement.  


“Oh, well… I would be fine with going on a walk. It’s good to give the brain a break and make the body work,” Jim stretched, cracking his back as he did so. “Just give me a few minutes to get dressed, then I should be ready to go.” 

…

I inhaled the sweet, warm breeze as the sun caressed my face like a gentle hand. Turning to look back at my front door, I saw Jimmy standing there, smiling at me, his sunglasses on. Being unreadable, as always.  


“Are you excited to get lost, mate?” I asked, grinning as I walked closer to the path.  


“Lost?” Jimmy questioned, closing and locking the front door before jogging slightly to catch up to me.  


“Well, I was thinking of walking down the path to town for a lil’ bit and then separating from it. You know, walk through the more crowded, forested part. Remember when we used to do that?” I looked over to him as he was standing right next to me now, staring down the path.  


“I remember,” he cooed, putting his hands behind his back. “But we never strayed too far, your grandmother always would scold us when she could tell we’d been disheveled from walking through the crowded wood.” We both chuckled at the memory, and I could feel my face soften up.  


“Yes, but this time she isn't around to stop us.” I turned to look at Jimmy, who was staring back at me, a sort of shocked smile on his face, his brows raised. A small laugh left his throat before he started walking down the path, me trailing close behind.  


“Dark humour, I like it.”  


“It’s funny because it’s true,” I remarked, feeling warmth in my chest from Jimmy’s approval. “Do you remember the stories she’d tell us to keep us out of the woods?”  


“Stories of demons and fairies,” he smirked, keeping his hands behind his back as he walked down the smooth path. “I remember.”  


“The ones about fairies scared me the most,” I admitted, scratching the back of my head as I sifted through the stories in my mind. “The way she would talk about them, it scared me. The fairies of these forests were the same size as us, and very, very evil… Nothing like the fairy tales that’re told in cartoons. Those tiny, bratty fairies had nothing on what my grandmother called, ‘the real deal’.” Jimmy hummed in response, continuing to walk silently, with me complying to the silence. 

Ten minutes down the path, I stopped and looked off into the woods. “Here,” I stated, breaking from the path and walking into the thick grass and moss. “I have a good feeling about this part here.”  


“If you say so,” Jimmy walked off with me, following behind as we walked through the thin trees, which almost crowded together in a suffocating mess. After a few minutes, I heard Jimmy whine slightly. “Oh, it all looks the same out here. No wonder poor souls get lost, no path or split to tell any direction apart.” I turned and smiled at him, raising my brows.  


“Come on, then-” I grabbed for his hand. He almost pulled away before seeming to soften up and letting me grip his hand. I quickened my pace, feeling our bodies rush past the trees and the sun passing over our heads.  


“You’re _really_ trying to get lost with me!” He laughed, quickening his own pace to be side by side with me.  


“Of course!” I laughed, turning and weaving between the trees. We ran for a few more seconds before I felt Jimmy stop, the sudden lack of movement jerking my body backwards, crashing me into him. He twisted his hand, that was embraced with mine, to make me collide against his chest, his other hand gripping firmly to a tree. I stared into his sunglasses, breathing heavily with confusion. I could see that his hair was disheveled, his chest moving up and down against mine as our hot breath met each other. I could see a bead of sweat on his neck. “Why’d you stop?” I gasped, furrowing my brows.  


“Look,” he straightened himself out, parting from me and pointing to a patch of ground near us. I stared down at the familiar pattern of holes in the circle of sprouting fungi. “Morels.” I looked at him, having a slight burst of laughter.  


“You stopped me for some mushrooms?”  


“Well, they could be our dinner for tonight!” He pointed out, slowly taking his light jacket off. “I’ll pick them and put them in here. You should go look and see if there are anymore around here.” 

Soon we had a good bunch of morels in his jacket, satisfied smiles on both of our faces.  


“I’ll cook them,” I stated. 

When we got back to the house, it was already three PM. Time went by so quickly in these woods sometimes. 

Jimmy sat at the table, watching me plate up the dinner I’d made for us. Morels with alfredo sauce and toast.  


“Smells good!” He chirped.  


“Let's hope it tastes good too,” I set the plates down, watching Jimmy dig into his meal.


	6. Chapter 6

I pursed my lips, leaning forward to stare at my computer. My lack of motivation really was catching up to me, leaving me to just stare at the concept designs I was making for my current client. It all felt so… dull. My mind churned painfully as I tried to get myself to just keep working, come on… just use your mouse, work, do something, come on-  


“Deep in thought, are you?” Jimmy’s voice interrupted my thoughts, making me snap a glance towards him.  


“Aye,” I sighed, stretching and looking back down at my computer. “My work is shit lately, can’t get myself to do anything.” I sat still again, looking at Jimmy. “What’re you dressed up for?” I asked, noticing how he looked like he was about to go out, from the shoes on his feet to the car keys in his hand.  


“Oh, I’m going to pick up some mail.” He sucked in his cheeks for an instant, as if he was thinking of what to say next.  


“... You’re wearing shoes just to go to our mailbox?” I asked, obviously puzzled.  


“Naw, I have a P.O. box. I don’t want fans knowing where I live when they send me things. And besides, I would feel bad making the mailman carry all of my love letters through the forest.” I nodded at his reasoning, glancing towards my laptop before shutting it.  


“May I come with? I think going to town would be good for me, I haven’t been out in-”  


“Five days, I know.” He nodded, a smile flicking onto his face for a second. “Ahm, well… I was planning on going alone.”  


“Oh, come on,” I reasoned, getting up and heading upstairs. “It won’t take me long to get dressed. Let me just come with.” 

…

Irritation swirled within Moriarty’s chest, but he held all of the threats and curses down in his throat, keeping his face calm and collected as he drove down the forest path with his acquaintance. He really didn’t want to take him along, but not taking him risked suspicion being raised. God, what a pain in the ass he could be.  


“Do we need anything from the shop?” Moriarty hummed in thought at the man’s question, glancing over to him before looking back at the road.  


“Nothing that I can think of, though we can stop in there together if you want. After I pick up my mail, that is.”  


“Alright, good thing I brought my wallet then.” Moriarty didn’t respond to that, continuing to look at the road. The silence was fine with him, but it seemed to be killing the guest in his car. “So… What’s the weirdest thing you’ve received in the mail from a fan?” Jim put on a smile, trying to make up a good story.  


“My fans don’t usually send gifts, but if they do it’s something normal. Food from different countries, little sweets… Of course I usually throw them out.”  


“Why would you do that?” His housemate asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. That irritated Jim, but he put on a face of concern.  


“Are you serious? I don’t want to be poisoned, especially from eating some French chocolates.” A silence draped over the car after he spoke, making both men feel awkward.  


“I suppose that’s smart, if not a bit paranoid seeming.”  


“You think I’m paranoid for not eating strangers' food?”  


“... Well when you put it that way, you don’t seem paranoid at all.” Moriarty smiled at that.  


“Thank you,” they stayed quiet now, Moriarty having his eyes on the road and his passenger staring out the window. When they reached town, James carefully drove around until he got to the postal office, parking nearby. “Stay in here, I won’t take long at all.”

…

It was really boring, being in a car by myself. I mean, the only thing keeping me slightly entertained was imagining what sort of letters Jimmy was receiving. My fingers interlaced with themselves as I hummed, glancing out to the sunny streets. Curiosity started to creep in my mind, my hands parting to let themselves graze over the glove box. Jimmy’s car was so clean, it seemed like he kept it in good shape. No dust anywhere, not even on the dashboard or glove box. It was the kind of glove box that needed a key to get it open. I pondered why Jimmy felt the need to keep it locked, wondering where I could find the key. I traced my fingers over the hole, concentrating on the sharp edges. Where did he keep the key? What was inside?  


I jumped when I heard the car door open, and laughed when Jimmy tossed some envelopes and a small box into the backseat and made eye contact with me. He was smiling, but his brows were furrowed in concern, looking from me to the glove box. “What were you up to while I was gone?”  


“Nothing, I was just wondering why this is locked.” I studied his features, waiting for his response. He raised his brows, his mouth puckering in thought before turning into a grin.  


“It’s a stupid story, actually.”  


“Do tell.”  


“Well, I really only kept hand sanitizer and receipts in there. Then, one day I lost the key. I turned my car out to try and find it, but no such luck.” He sighed, leaning back in his car seat. “Oh well… no serious loss.” I relaxed a bit at his explanation. I still felt a curious need to open it up, but kept it to myself. “Should we head to the shop now?” He asked, turning the car on.  


“Yes, lets.”

At the shop, I looked around, carefully eyeing the different snacks and sweets. The house could probably use some. I never really bought much junk food before though, I didn't want to get into the bad habit of eating it often.  


“Have you found anything you want?” Jimmy asked, walking up to me. He’d been picking out some fruit and tea for the kitchen.  


“I can’t really decide… I’m having trouble figuring out whether I want to go savory, or sweet.” I pointed to my snacks of choice, revealing the subjects of my dilemma to Jimmy.  


“Why not both?” He asked, picking them up and putting them in his basket. He then grabs some chocolates, smirking at me. “Problem solved.”  


“Sure,” I chewed at my bottom lip, following behind him as he made his way to the cashier.  


“We don’t need anything else, right?” He asked before putting the items down. I shook my head no, fumbling to get my wallet out. “Oh, I’ll pay,” Jimmy insisted.  


“Really? Are you sure?”  


“Of course, you deserve a treat for letting me drag you along to get my mail.” He winked at me, making me feel a simmering warmth in the back of my skull.  


“... If you say so.”


	7. Chapter 7

A hazy, dark room. Jim pulls against the ropes that bind him down into the hot, burning sand under him. It burns so much against the skin of his exposed back. The sand slowly starts to pool around him, burning him and infesting his mouth, his eyes, his nose, until he can’t see. These small grains fill the room and weigh on him, until he feels the weight crush his rib cage, filling his lungs like bags-  


And he wakes up.  


His mouth is open in a silent scream, his mouth dry and his skin caked in a cold sweat. He’s in his room, twisted amongst his thick blankets. He blinks his wide eyes, trying to pace his breathing and keep himself still until he no longer hears his heart pounding in his ears. Moriarty sits up, untangles himself from the blankets, and steps out of bed. God, his head hurts, the sun shining into his room not making it any better.  


When he goes downstairs, he is met with a look of confusion from his housemate, who is eating toast and tea.  


“Is something wrong? Why’re you sweating?” He asks Jim, which makes Jim squint and rub his forehead to confirm the acquisition.  


“I, ahm… My bed was too hot last night. I think I might need some thinner blankets.”  


“Oh, I think I have some in my closet. Want me to go get them?”  


“Yeah, thank you,” Jim swallowed dryly, clearing his throat before turning around and heading back upstairs. “I’m going to take a shower while you do that.”

…  


I carried the thin, folded blanket to Jimmy’s room, humming as I heard him run the shower. When I went into his room, his blankets were warped and twisted to hell, like he’d been tossing and turning all damn night. Sighing, I set the blanket on top of his dresser before dealing with the one on his bed. When I put my hands on it, I immediately recoiled in slight disgust. Jesus Christ, his sheets were soaked to hell and back in sweat. 

…

Moriarty stared at himself in the mirror, his grey shirt clinging to his skin. He exhaled through his nose, slowly peeling off the shirt and then facing himself in the mirror. His big, dark eyes scanned over the pale, feverishly sweaty flesh, as if looking for the cheating answers on an exam.  


He snapped his attention away from the mirror, cranking the shower on and letting a blast of cold water come down. Jim quickly pulled off his boxer briefs, entering the shower and shivering at the cold water that beat against his skin. It wasn’t too bad though, he was used to it. His hair dampened quickly, the water trailing down his face, arms, abdomen… he placed a hand against his stomach, the hot, burning, coal like sand still wavering in his memory. He stared down his body, inhaling and exhaling slowly to watch it move delicately. 

…

When I heard the shower turn off, I smiled to myself. Finally, I could turn on the washing machine without making Jimmy’s shower cold. I pressed the machine on, setting the basket aside and walking out to the living room as the machine hummed and did its work.  


“I’m cleaning your bed sheets,” I called towards the bathroom as I walked up the stairs. I was met with a muffled ‘thank you’ from Jimmy. “Do you need anything for breakfast?”  


“Toast would be wonderful,” his voice seemed tired as he opened the bathroom door, to my surprise no steam seemed to have fogged up the room. I glanced over his body briefly before catching myself and looking at his face instead. He’d wrapped the towel around his waist, using another towel to rub and dry his hair with. He smiled at me before heading to his room.

I watched him eat his toast, thinking of what to say. There was an inner voice telling me that there was something that needed to be addressed, but I wasn’t sure what.  


“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” I asked, leaning back in my seat to have a relaxed demeanor. “Your bed was soaked, if it was really that hot you could’ve asked me about blankets.”  


“I didn’t want to wake you,” he said before taking another bite of his toast, humming and complimenting me on the breakfast I'd made for him.  


“Well, I was awake late last night… you can come to me for anything, you know.” I smiled gently, trying to reassure him. “A few years back, I’d have nightmares that’d make me sweat like hell. If you’re going through something similar, it’s always good to talk to a friend about it.”  


“I don’t dream,” he quickly pointed out, drinking his tea while he made eye contact with me. I raised a brow, chuckling and shaking my head.  


“I’m sure you dream, you just don’t remember them. I mean, come on, if it’s your work that’s got you stressed, I totally get it. I have stress dreams all the time-” He laughed as I spoke, rolling his eyes.  


“I thought you were a web designer, not a psychiatrist.” I exhaled in defeat, seeing that he was being irritated at my prodding.  


“Well, sorry for analyzing you. I suppose I should just stick to what I know; keeping my mouth shut.” I crossed my arms over my chest, looking for his reaction after dropping that passive aggressive message. His face seemed to soften up a bit as he let my words roll over him.  


“Oh, come on… Don’t guilt trip me. I just don’t want to be interrogated after waking up. There’s also, genuinely, nothing bothering me.” We kept eye contact after he said that, I could see the seriousness in his eyes once again. He was making himself, to my knowledge, vulnerable by giving me such confident eye contact.  


“Alright, alright… I’m actually sorry now.” I sighed, letting my hands rest on my thighs.  


“Thank you,” he hummed, finishing his breakfast.


	8. Chapter 8

Curiosity had been infecting my mind for days now, but I wouldn’t call it an obsession. The night before, I had a dream of unlocking the glove box in Jimmy’s car. When I opened it up, my eyes laid upon a severed hand, open, bloody, and relaxed. Then I woke up.  


Though such a horrifying dream might be a hint that I’m worrying about the damn contents of his car too much, it also feels like a sign that my superstition is correct. That’s why I’ve ordered a lock picking kit off the internet.  


Okay, maybe I’m obsessed.  


I mean, learning a new hobby couldn’t hurt, right? Even if I don’t get to see the secrets of that dubious glove box, I could use this new found skill for… well, I guess I couldn’t use it for much of anything.  


I was actually watching lock picking tutorials on Youtube when Jimmy had walked into my room without knocking, making me stupidly yank my earphones out and slam my laptop shut. A suspicious smirk crept across his face, and he raised a brow before commenting on my actions:  


“Sorry for not knocking, didn’t know I’d catch you watching pornography.” He dragged out that last, filthy word and left his mouth open in a smile, obviously trying to think of what to say next. I was completely embarrassed and slightly dumb founded that he’d just throw that claim out, but I couldn’t blame him. If anything I was relieved he didn’t know what I was actually looking at. “Though, you’re not really in a compromising position. Do you get off on being hunched over your computer, fully dressed?” Well, maybe I spoke too soon.  


“Come on, Jimmy,” I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the burning pink that was taking over my face. “I just… like my privacy. Knock next time.”  


“So you were watching porn.” He stated, crossing his arms.  


“I’m not going to deny anything. What do you want?” I asked, now a bit irritated at his teasing.  


“Oh, I was wondering if you had a preference for dinner tonight. I’m going to the store, thought maybe you’d like to come along… but obviously you’re busy.” I decided to give in to his accusations, sighing:  


“Thanks for the invitation, but I am very busy. Work, you know…”  


“You’re trying to make an excuse now?!” He laughed, heading out of my room. “I’ll see you later tonight!” Jimmy sang as he went downstairs. 

I deleted my search history when I was done with my extra research, maybe I’m just dramatic but I had a creeping feeling that if I’d leave my computer open for a second… Jimmy might find out my plot against him. Wow, I really am paranoid. Why would Jimmy even suspect his glove box being related to my new found interest in picking locks? Nevertheless, better safe than sorry.  


“I’m home! Hope you enjoyed yourself while I was away!” I peeked my head out from the kitchen, the cup I’d grabbed from the cupboard still in my hand as I looked at Jimmy. His arms were full with two paper bags. “Help me with the groceries, will you?” He requested, strolling over to the kitchen and setting the bags down on the counter. “Put away that bag, I’ll put away this one.” His voice drawled, he seemed bored. As I helped put away some cereal he’d purchased, I noticed a pair of sunglasses amidst the groceries.  


“Are these yours?” I asked, lifting them up and waving them around to show him.  


“No! They’re very much yours, thought you could use them. With all your squinting every time we go out in the sun,” he imitated me, putting a hand up to shade his eyes as he squinted. “Oh, and please accept the gift. I already tore the tag off, so I can’t return them.”  


“Why’re you spoiling me?” I grinned, putting the glasses on and looking around the kitchen, commenting on how dark it was.  


He paused before shrugging and saying, “No reason.” He finished putting away the last item in his bag before I replied.  


“Aw, did you feel bad for walking in on me? Buying me gifts won’t help the fact that you came into my room without knocking. Didn’t your parents teach you manners?” I teased, lifting the glasses to let them rest on my forehead. A sardonic smile spread across Jimmy’s face.  


“Did your grandmother teach you how to not be a prick?” He hissed at me, leaning against the counter and propping a hand onto his hip.  


“I’m a prick?” I put an expression of comical shock on my face. “Well, at least I’m not a creep.”  


“What’re you suggesting?” He stepped closer to me, the space between us now a mere inch. I knew that this was his form of mock intimidation, but I lost my train of thought nonetheless. So many years of working and living on my own really made me so easily flustered.  


“I’m, ahm,” I struggled to fully fit the words onto my tongue. “I’m suggesting that maybe you walked into my room with the intention of catching me.” His eyes seemed to widen for a second, but I still couldn’t tell if I’d actually surprised him with my devilish reasoning. Laughter bubbled out of him, his head shaking.  


“You wish,” he whispered, keeping a soft smile on his face and looking into my eyes. I lost his secret staring contest almost instantly, my own confusing and erratic heartbeat causing me to look away and continue to put away the groceries.  


“You win,” I muttered, feeling his eyes on the back of my neck. “Your staring is only furthering my point, though.”  


“I’ll let you have that,” he stepped away from me when I finished, taking the empty paper bags. 

Later that night while we were eating, my creeping curiosity was tormenting me again, but in the form of other questions.  


“Are things not going well with your family?” He didn’t even flinch at my question, continuing to eat his food.  


“Naw, they’re doing lovely. Why do you ask?”  


“You always try to change the subject, or try to one up me in conversation whenever I bring them up. Maybe your confidence is just confusing me.” I shrugged, putting a bite of food in my mouth and chewing slowly. I kept glancing at him, trying to find any sign of sadness or anger in his face. Nothing, just a complete neutral slate.  


“Maybe I just like toying with you,” his eyes went from his plate to my face, those dark holes analyzing me, just like I was doing to him. It made me chuckle.  


“Be careful with that kind’ve talk.”  


“Oh, why? What’s wrong with my wording?” He pried, smiling.  


“It just…” I paused, now feeling embarrassed and looking down at my food. “It sounds, you know…” I’m not going to say it.  


“Fruity?” He purred, tilting his head and raising his brows in fake concern.  


“I wasn’t going to say it,” I inhaled deeply, avoiding eye contact.  


“Well, don’t fear. I’m not going to prey on you.” He paused, opening his mouth to talk again before I interrupted.  


“I’m not saying that, I don’t care if you like blokes. I always suspected it, anyways. I mean, some of the things the Powers kid said about you sounded believable-”  


“Oh, for the love of God!” He raised his voice, making me look up at him in surprise. “I’m not gay,” he insisted before continuing, “I have a girlfriend!” His face was the tiniest bit tinted pink.  


“Oh… Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Jimmy, I really didn’t mean to- I was just trying to be supportive-” Embarrassment raged like waves up my spine.  


“I know, just… maybe stick to being simple. It suits you better than being an ‘activist’.” Something about his words stung, making my secret and internal truth stir deep within my chest. Maybe another day.  


“You have a girlfriend?” I asked quickly, trying to change the subject. “You’ve never brought her up. I mean, I’ve never seen her.” He rolled his eyes at me.  


“We’ve just started dating. She lives in London.”  


“What’s her name?” A small smile went over his face when I asked my question.  


“Molly, she works with postmortems.”  


“Oh, another goth girl. They seem to like you,” I went back to my food, deciding to take Jimmy’s advice and act simple.


	9. Chapter 9

“Jimmy?”  


“Yes?” He glanced up from his phone, the focused tension on his brows not yet dissipating as he looked at me.  


“Could you get me my tea?” I barely looked away from my laptop, feeling comfortable and focused right where I sat at the kitchen table. Yet, I could still feel him roll his eyes strongly at me.  


“You left it there, what, twenty minutes ago? It’s probably cold by now.” He straightened his posture as he leaned against the kitchen entrance, phone in his hand, still typing as he looked at me.  


“I don’t care if my tea is cold, it’s still delicious.” I wetted my bottom lip, leaning more towards my computer. “Just grab it for me, will you? You’re closer.”  


“Hm… no.” He went back to looking at his phone, having an expression of genuine disinterest. “Try not being lazy.”  


“But I’m soooo comfortable,” I whined, still not looking at him. “I’ll buy us dinner in town, anything you want.” He put his attention back to me now, raising his brows.  


“And dessert?” He asked.  


“Yes, fine, and dessert.”  


“Hm… naaaaaw,” he smiled to himself, putting his phone in his front pocket and crossing his arms.  


“Please?” I lightly begged, giving him a glance. He sighed, going over to the coffee table and grabbing my cup. Jimmy walked back to me, holding the cup close to his chest and looking over my hunched, computer focused form. His eyes even went over my commissioned work, which seemed to spark little interest in him.  


“Say it again,” he purred. I rolled my eyes and sighed, putting my hand out.  


“Please.”  


“Good boy,” he put the cup in my hand, watching me sip from it and then set it to my side. “You can choose dinner tonight, but I think for dessert we should get ice cream!”

Though I slightly regretted the promise I made of buying us dinner, I knew it would be good for me to go out into town and see some familiar faces. And to once again be seated in front of my new found muse, Jimmy’s mysterious glove box. I waited patiently in the car as he finished putting on his coat in the house. My hand slid over it gently before falling onto my lap.  


“So, where are we headed?” He asked as he entered the car, smiling and practically slamming the door shut.  


“Hm… I was thinking we could maybe go to that one place…” I trailed off, now feeling that the name was lost to me. “God, I always forget the name.”  


“Kelly’s?”  


“Yes! The pizza place!” I smiled wide at him. “How’d you know?” He turned on his engine, glancing over to me.  


“I remember your grandma teasing, ‘Love the food, not the name’. Maybe the place gives you amnesia.” I laughed at his statement, buckling up as he began to drive down the forest trail.  


“I’ll say… you were always the brains between us.” He smirked before replying:  


“I know.”

“Fucking delicious,” he hummed, licking over the the balled up ice cream on his cone. We were sitting across from each other at a wooden table in front of the small ice cream shop. It was practically dark out, the dusty purple sky barely illuminating the empty streets. “You’re really missing out, not even getting a single scoop!”  


“I’m full from dinner,” I assured him, smiling softly and watching him eat. He seemed to notice me watching him, because he made eye contact before licking up a drip on his cone, all the way to the tip. A strange chill went through me, but I played it off as the nearing night time air. “It’s too cold for ice cream anyways,” I muttered, looking away from him and rubbing my arms.  


“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” he insisted, grinning at me. “My favorite way to eat it is in the rain.”  


“You’re serious?”  


“Dead serious.” I laughed at how ridiculous his statement was, glancing at him and taking note of how he licked his ice cream. If this was his form of a joke, then he had a perverted sense of humour.  


Or maybe I’m just the pervert.  


“Don’t you at least want to try some?” He asked, gesturing his cone towards me.  


“What? No, you’ve already licked it.”  


“Aw, come on. Why would that stop you?” He pouted.  


“We’re in public.”  


“No one’s out.” I considered his reasoning, glancing around before leaning forward and having a lick off his cone. He continued to smile at me, immediately taking the cone back and licking where I’d licked. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”  


“You’re right, it’s delicious.” I played with the flavor in my mouth, staring at his car which was parked near us. “I have an unrelated question.”  


“Go ahead.”  


“Would you ever let me drive your car? Like, by myself?”  


“...Why?”  


“Oh, well, sometimes you sleep in a little later than usual and I just want to go into town for some groceries or something.”  


“No.” His quick response left me surprised,turning my eyes from the car to him.  


“Why not? I know how to drive, I’m not going to crash it.”  


“I said, nooooooooo!” He sang, having another lick of his treat. “And that’s final,” his words were muffled from his tongue being pressed against his dessert. I watched as his warm breath against the frozen sweet curled and became mist in the air. Something about how it swirled kept me compelled, just like Jimmy’s teasing yet negative answer. The defiance only seemed to feed my inner detective.


	10. Chapter 10

“Good morning,” James could hear the birds outside singing chaotically, his barely open eyes being attacked by the warm sunlight that overtook his room. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, looking towards the window and seeing his housemate straightening out the fabric of the curtains he’d hung up.  


“What’re you doing in my room?” James asked, clearing his throat after he spoke. His skin felt tight and vulnerable, disgusting and sore at the same time, just like the swirl that was his brain. A full body migraine.  


“It’s ten PM, I thought you should get up by now.” He glanced over to James before walking towards him and sitting down at the end of his bed. “It’s such a pretty day, I would feel bad if I let you sleep through it.” He had a soft smile on his face, which made James cringe inside, pulling his blanket up to cover more of his body.  


“I look horrid when I wake up,” James mumbled, now pulling the blanket over his head. His stomach twisted with regret after his statement, feeling vulnerable even though he was covered completely.  


“What do you mean?” His friend laughed, but it had a tinge of concern to it. “You just have some bed head, everyone gets it. And besides, I bet the ladies die to see your hair all messed around like that.” James giggled at that, pulling the blanket down to let his eyes peek out.  


“You act like I’m some lady killer,” he popped his foot out from under the blanket to poke at his friend’s hip with his toe.  


“Hey, stop-” He smacked James’ foot, which retreated back under the blanket. “I’m convinced you are, I mean… you seem to get a lot of mail from fans, and you had a girlfriend that I didn’t even know about! No one is that casual about their relationships unless they’re a player!”  


“You’re calling me a player now?” James cringed again at the mention of his ‘girlfriend’. He’d forgotten he’d said that, even if he was confident in his words. He had never even talked to Molly, but he’d been planning on becoming her boyfriend for a few weeks now. In the end it all came together perfectly in his plan, so why did it make him cringe when his childhood friend was ‘aware’ of his dating life?  


“Yes, I’d maybe raise the stakes a bit and call you a heart-breaker. You’ve probably left many girls feeling oh, sooooo lonely,” his friend put on a mocking pout, his voice teetering on the edge of baby talk.  


“Molly’s the real deal,” James insisted, sitting up straight and letting the blanket fall down onto his lap, exposing his bare torso.  


“Do you always sleep in only your underwear?”  


“Yes,” what a stupid question. Seemed like his house mate was full of them.  


“Could I see a picture of her?” Curse James’ jinxing mind. He nodded, grabbing for his phone and turning it on.  


“I don’t have any of me and her together, but… here’s one, she let me take it.” He showed him a picture of Molly posing on a bench, a picture James had taken from her Facebook. “Isn’t she cute?” He watched his friend scan over the picture and nod slowly.  


“Yeah, she is. So it’s… serious between you two?” James turned his phone off.  


“Very,” he placed the phone down to his side and stretched, yawning as he did so. “She isn’t a fan either, treats me like a normal person.” He watched as that soft smile twitched onto his friend’s face again. Strange, it almost seemed looked Jealousy to James. The thought of his house mate possibly being jealous made Moriarty’s headache disappear slightly, it was such a delicious thought. Maybe it didn’t help James in the long run, but it was just so fun. Childhood friend romance, a story people would die for. A story that he’d write and burn in a single sitting.  


“I’m happy for you two. Maybe I can meet her sometime,” his friend hummed, lacing his fingers together and looking out the window. “If she ever decides to visit Ireland.” 

…

I stared down at the small and surprisingly light box that sat on my bed, my fingers twitching with hunger, just wanting to rip the box open. The answers to my questions came in a package, dystopian and accessible.  


“Wanna go to town later today?” I peeked into the kitchen, where Jimmy was cleaning some dishes.  


“Hm… perhaps. What activities will we be indulging in?” He asked, looking over to me. His sleeves were rolled up, the suds of the dish soap crawling all over his wrist and forearms. It was nice seeing him do a chore he actually seemed to enjoy, even if he didn’t say it himself. I’d never reminded or asked Jimmy to do the dishes, he’d just end up doing them every single day. Maybe there was something calming about the warm water running over his hands.  


“Maybe we could do a grocery run and then park the car in the field-”  


“Hearth’s Field?”  


“The one and only. Lay down on the tall grass, talk… Like we used to.”  


“I remember, you always loved going there after school.” He hummed with what I could only assume was nostalgia. This made me feel a bit guilty, but only a bit. Fifty percent of me wanted to go out on a drive with him because I felt like I barely even knew him anymore. His personality had changed so much, it felt like I was only holding onto our childhood. I want to be in the present.  


Now, the other half of me wants to find a chance to break into that little glove box of his and look at the contents. Does this make me a bad person? Hopefully not, it probably made me a bad friend more than anything else.  


“You brought the list, right?” He asked, keeping his eyes on the forest path. My head was propped against the window.  


“Yep. Do you mind running into the shop without me? I’ll just stay in the car.” I tried to fight the urge to look at him or to look suspicious as I put down my request. I could feel my tools in my pocket, almost screaming and burning. A paranoia rang through my brain, scared that Jimmy could hear and see them as well.  


“...Why?” He asked, smiling.  


“My anxiety is worse than usual today,” I lied. Well, sort of. It was mostly a lie. Maybe it just felt like a lie because I never used it as an excuse.  


“You have anxiety?” He raised a brow, glancing at me. I noticed that he gripped the wheel a little tighter. “Since when?”  


“Since forever,” I rolled my eyes, laughing nervously. “Why do you think I work from home?” He stayed silent for a moment, his face blank and eyes focused as he stared forward.  


“Is that why you don’t have a girlfriend?” He seemed so serious, it actually caught me off guard. It was like he had a sudden and odd concern for me.  


“What do you know? I could very much have a secret girlfriend in another country just like you.” I huffed, feeling a soft yet ironically sharp prick in my chest.  


“But you don’t,” he idled with confidence. “There’s no shame in being single. But, you are a bit of a loner, you have to admit.” The prick in my chest came back with a vengeance, making me grip to the sides of my arms. I really didn’t want to look at him now.  


“I’m not very good with women,” I muttered, wishing that the subject would change but not knowing how to get away from it.  


“Not enough confidence? Does the anxiety stop you?” I could practically drown in the silence after he spoke, which made me look over to him. His lips pursed, his eyes not breaking from his forward stare. “You need to understand that a lack of confidence can really hurt you when it comes to dating. Women want men who are sure of themselves,” he glanced over to me, smiling. “I gained confidence because I knew it made people like me, and now I have tons of friends, a lovely girl of my own... I’m practically a socialite. I’m sure with a little self made charm you could be a ‘heart-breaker’ just like me.”  


“But are you actually confident?” I questioned, and his brows furrowed gently at that.  


“Of course I am. One hundred percent.”  


“Alright, I’ll be back in no time. Should I get some chamomile tea to help with your anxiety?”  


“Yes, please.” I felt a hot pink cover my face at his question, half of the heat was caused from my inexperience with pampering from people who weren’t my grandmother and the other half was from my complete guilt of having used anxiety as a way to trick my best friend. Wait… is it too much to call him my best friend? Maybe.  


Once he left, I exhaled and watched him enter the shop. I leaned forward, getting out my lock picking tools and going to work. The anxiety of having to work on my first lock was almost unbearable, the tools shaking in my hands. The thought of Jimmy being able to come back at any moment really messed with me, but I eventually heard the satisfying click of the lock coming undone like a knot in my hands. My sweat became cold, slipping my tools into my pocket and hesitantly opening up the glove compartment.  


Oh.  


See, when your long lost friend since childhood tells you that there is just hand sanitizer and receipts in his glove box, a majority of you will believe him. You’ll find your own curiosity silly, until you have evidence of him being a liar right in front of you. You realize that he might even be an incredibly good liar. I snapped a picture of the open compartment on my phone and then slammed it shut, hearing it click back to being locked. I didn’t want to be caught betraying Jimmy.  


I lifted my phone inches from my face, studying the picture.  


Scattered papers with sprawled writing which I thought was gibberish at first but now that I could actually put my mind to it I could see that it was some strange code, a mix of letters and numbers.  


And placed neatly on top was a handgun, the safety on.


	11. Chapter 11

I stared up at the golden sky, the clouds clotted and mingled amongst themselves like cells in a body. My head was kept propped up by my hands, the rest of my body comfortable as it was laid out straight on the tall grass that bent down gently to hold me. This is almost what I wanted the night to come to, it was so close to being perfect. But, instead of feeling the bond I desired so badly, the weight of my own worries carried my heart down to my stomach. The night air that I wanted so badly to be filled with talking and laughter was silent, the warm body next to me contributing nothing to break it. With a swift glance, I could see that Jimmy had his eyes closed, his face seemingly tense in thought.  


“Are you going to take a nap?” I asked gently, not wanting to be pricked by any of his edges. The atmosphere between us had changed once Jimmy had gotten back to the car, there was nothing to point out that I had done anything but sit there and wait, yet… The glances he kept giving me throughout the car ride to the field were challenging and sharp. It was killing me, I could barely even look at him. He knew. I don’t know what he knew exactly, but he knew I had done something… wrong.  


“No, I’m just thinking.” His voice was oddly soft, wrapping around me like a coat.  


“Okay, just know that you’re missing this beautiful sky when you keep your eyes closed.” I looked back up to the sky, letting my own thoughts crash down upon me. Why would he have a gun? What was all that code- oh, to hell with the code. Who cares. Why would he have a gun?! Was it for self defense? If so, why was it locked? I knew he had secrets, but this one just felt so wrong. It felt so bad, so fucked up.  


“Do you ever miss her?” Jimmy’s whisper slapped my ears, but I kept enough vulnerability to myself that I just continued staring up at the sky instead of looking at him.  


“Who?” I already knew the answer.  


“Your grandmother.”  


I shrugged gently, chewing the inside of my cheek. “More than you can imagine, I just don’t have anything to show for it.”  


“How so?” I could feel his body turn towards me as he spoke.  


“I, ahm…” Something caught in my throat, my brain screaming at me to not open up any gates. My body didn’t want Jimmy knowing of my guilt, but I did. “I didn’t visit her at all while I was in Montana.” I was too scared to look for a reaction in him, but I could feel the large eyes staring into. Burning into me.  


He was silent for a few seconds before getting closer to me, continuing his whispered tone. “Why?”  


My breathing shook, my brain and throat feeling like they were being boiled with water. Please don’t cry, please don’t cry, please don’t cry, please, please pleasepleaseplease.  


He propped himself up on his forearms, trying to get me to look into his eyes. When I did, there was something so cold, but the relaxed expression of concern on his face seemed so warm.  


“Why?” He asked, again.  


“... Because, I’m selfish.”  


We both laid there, bathing in the silence and staring each other in the eyes. I could feel my hot tears bubble out and pour down my cheeks, my lower lip quivering as I tried to hold my breath back. Trying to hold back any pathetic sobs and whines. I closed my eyes, and just wished that the earth would swallow me whole.  


“We should head home.”  


When I opened my eyes, it was dark. The sky was speckled with stars, and I couldn’t help but forget what was just said to me for a second.  


“Okay.”  


The car ride back was silent, but the energy between us felt less tense.  


When we got home, I was so exhausted that I just immediately went up to my room, not feeling the need to thank Jimmy for the ride or to help him with the groceries. I was sure he’d understand.  


When I’d fully gotten comfortable for bed, I lay on my back staring at the ceiling. I don’t think I was restless, I was just waiting for the boredom to sweep me under into sleep. My eyes drifted over to the door though when I heard it creak open, Jimmy’s bright, big eyes staring at me through the opening he’d made.  


“May I come in?”  


I nodded, but realized it was probably too dark for him to see it. “Sure,” he slipped into my room, quietly taking a seat at the end of my bed. I could see the bright whites of his eyes shifting about, and the vast darkness of his irises scanning me.  


“I asked if you missed her because I wanted to know how it feels to lose a loved one,” he seemed to be testing some unseen waters, smoothing out a part of my blanket with his hand. “I know I’ll only have my parents for… so long.” His tone, in an eerie way, was almost as unreadable as his overcast face.  


“Well… You really shouldn’t worry about stuff like that. Just live with their memories, good and bad.” I closed my eyes briefly before I felt his hand gently take hold of my ankle. We stayed like that for a good few minutes.  


“I’m selfish too,” he finally spoke, and I could see a glint of his teeth from a smile. “I’m extremely selfish, but I’d never actually admit it.”  


“...You just did.” I pointed out, slightly puzzled and alarmed by his words.  


“I’d never admit why I’m selfish.” He clarified, taking his hand back and placing it on his lap. “I’m taking a flight to London in two days, I thought I’d tell you before you went to sleep.” Jimmy got up and silently left the room, closing my door with a soft click.  


The next morning I woke up at nine, stretching and actually feeling incredibly well rested. I headed downstairs to see Jimmy on the couch, one leg over the other while he was keeping himself busy on his phone.  


“Good morning,” I said, rubbing my eyes a bit as I took in the sunlight. “How long will you be in London?” I asked.  


“Ahm, two or three weeks?” He replied without looking up from his phone. I stared at him with mild disbelief.  


“Three weeks? What if I need to get food?”  


“Oh come on, a walk wouldn’t kill you.” He smirked to himself, glancing over to me. “And besides, don’t you want me to be able to embrace my dearly beloved?” I continued to glare at him before he stood up and headed towards the kitchen. “Tea?”  


“Please.”  


I sipped at my tea and sat across from Jimmy, who was grinning at me. I wanted to punch his stupid, silly smiles sometimes. Odd though, because the thought of hurting him scared me immensely.  


“I don’t see why you’re so upset,” he heard a notification from his phone, picking it up swiftly and silently reading whatever message he’d gotten. “I’ll come back eventually.”  


“It’s a long time,” I felt warmed by the cup in my hands, but irritated at his multitasking. Always on that damn phone. “The tea is very good,” I added.  


“Thanks,” he smiled, his tongue sticking out ever so slightly between his teeth. “I’ll make it up to you tonight, we can hang out. Do whatever you want.” I sipped my tea as I thought about his offer.  


“Could we watch a movie?”  


“Of course, your pick.” I smiled at that, then realized he caught my smile and had the look of a winner in his eyes.  


“You’ve watched this before, right?” I popped open the case, looking over the DVD with fondness. The room was yellow with lamp light.  


“Nope, not at all!” He chirped as he entered the living room, a bowl of crisps in his hands. “I’m not prone to watching the same movie twice, I find it boring.”  


“Oh, I love rewatching movies, especially Amelie… You’ve at least heard of it, right?”  


“Of course!” He sat down on the couch, placing the bowl on the coffee table. Jimmy looked comfortable, wearing a shirt that was well fitting and grey sweatpants. “I never really cared to look into what it’s about, though.”  


I smiled softly, popping the disc into my laptop. “Well, I suppose you’re about to find out.”  


When the ending credits played I glanced over at Jimmy to see a soft smile gracing his face. My heart oddly jumped at seeing such a thing, but I played it off to myself as excitement.  


“I didn’t expect it to be romance, especially coming from you!” Jimmy teased, catching me looking at him and making eye contact. “Is there a little hopeless romantic in there?”  


I chuckled, shaking my head and letting the credits play a bit longer before pressing the eject button. “I just enjoy great movies,” I insisted.  


“Mhm,” he hummed, straightening his back and turning towards me. “What now?” He asked.  


“I don’t know,” I put away the DVD, then went to the laptop to close it. My plans were quickly stopped when Jimmy gently pushed his fingers against mine.  


“Do you have any music downloaded on there?” He asked, looking at me with raised brows and adventurous eyes. I glanced over to the laptop, thinking on how to answer.  


“Well, yes…”  


“Could we play something?” I nodded at that, going to my downloads and finding my music.  


“You choose,” I said, feeling self conscious. I didn’t want to be judged for my music taste, which Jimmy probably didn’t care about, but still…  


He hummed as he sifted through my downloaded music before landing on- oh, no. “‘Put Your Head On My Shoulder’? My, my, the hopeless romantic strikes again!”  


“Oh, shut up.” I glared quickly before defending myself. “Ahm, an ex-girlfriend of mine made me download it.” He gave a sly smile before pressing play, getting up on his feet and going to the middle of the living room. He slowly started dancing, trying to keep a straight face. When the lyrics started, he cracked up a little as he lip synced along. I grinned up at him, chuckling softly as he did a half empty waltz.  


“Won’t you join me?” He asked, putting a hand out towards me. I glanced around the room to no one, standing up slowly and hesitantly taking his hand. He pulled me in, getting me in the position of the now full waltz. “Put your head,” he sang softly, almost a hum, “next to mine, dear…” He continued to hum the rest of the song, leaving me flustered as we danced. I couldn’t tell if this was his perverted jokes again or if I’m still just a pervert. A warm shiver ran through me as I felt his left hand come onto the small of my back, pulling me closer. He leaned close next to my ear, and I could feel Jimmy’s warm breath tickle at my neck.  


“I know you rummaged through my glove box,” he whispered, his grips on my hand and the small of my back tightening.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty Jim focused. Enjoy!

After his whispered confession, Jimmy took a step away from me, leaning over and closing my laptop. When he stood up straight again, I was staring at him with pure disbelief.  


“What’re you talking about?” I finally asked, trying to read his intentions through his facial expression. Once again, he was holding his look of boredom, as if he hadn’t just given me the heart attack of the century.  


“Oh, come on,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid, I could tell you were lying about your anxiety- which, by the way, is a little bit shameful of you but VERY clever. And you’re using my _empathy_ to your advantage.” The way he said ‘empathy’ threw me off a bit, it sounded as if he were being sarcastic. “Plus, you’re not a very good liar. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up all,” he pressed his arms up against himself, mockingly cringing and hunching over, “ _awkward_.”  


I inhaled slowly, feeling a sharp heat fill my head- it was almost as painful as rage. “Don’t be mean.”  


“Mean?” He playfully pouted, relaxing his posture. “I think it’s fair to act a bit _hostile_ when you catch your friend rummaging through your things!”  


“Okay, fine, so what if I did? How did you know?!” I huffed, clenching and unclenching my fists. I could feel the heat going to my eyes like water in a pool. My vision blurred with my tears, which I wiped away on my forearms quickly. Jimmy saw the quick tears and raised his brows, putting his hands behind his back.  


“Let’s not be immature about this,” he spoke softly, a look of regret that was disgustingly playful glossed over his eyes. “And besides, you just gave me my reason.”  


“What?”  


“Admittance! I had a hunch that you’d looked through my glove box, and I was right! I found my answer just by saying the right words.” He put his left arm out from behind his back to look at his short nails. “The glances of guilt when I got back in the car were also very telling.” He glanced off to no one, then looked back at my face. “How did you open it?”  


I opened my mouth slightly, trying to think of what to say. “...That’s not important, what IS important is that you have a fucking gun!”  


Jimmy chuckled, but there was a slight look of confusion on his face at what I said. “I have a license, the right to carry. Ever since the ripe age of sixteen! Besides, that’s an easy question to answer. Now, how did you open my glove box?”  


I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “I picked the lock.”  


He looked genuinely impressed, “Astounding! And you’d been hiding this talent from me?”  


“Well, I learned it just to get that compartment open…” I admitted, I was practically shaking from shock at being faced with such a harsh topic. It felt like an extreme and personal criticism.  


“...Interesting,” he put his fingertips together before letting his fingers embrace. There was a striking silence between us, Jimmy and I just staring into each other's eyes. My face was probably riddled with embarrassment, while his had a hesitant but very visible confidence. “I’m sorry for confronting you like this, it was just bothering me.”  


“It’s fine… I shouldn’t have been snooping around. I shouldn’t have lied to you-”  


“I lied first,” he admitted. “I’m deeply, deeply sorry.” Jimmy stepped towards me, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it gently. There was something about the tenseness of his grasp that made him appear trapped. “You have to admit though, I got you!” He let out a laugh, looking at my face with a hopefulness, but his smile quickly faded when I didn’t smile back. He cringed, backing off and heading upstairs. “I’ll be heading to the airport early tomorrow, so I’ll just go to bed! Good night!” Jimmy’s door slammed close. 

…

Jim got up at the crack of dawn the next day, rubbing his eyes with his fists. His body felt so cold even though he’d been sleeping under his blanket. Infact, the whole room felt cold. When he stepped onto the floor and lifted his foot, he could see a fog mark left from the heat of his foot touching the wooden floor. Why was this happening? Did someone break in-  


Oh, he had left his window open before falling asleep. He stood up, shivering and rubbing his arms as he went over to his window and closed it. Jim then proceeded to get dressed and grab his pre packed suitcase.  


He went to the kitchen, grabbing an apple before heading out the door. When he sat down in his car, he set his suitcase beside himself and took a huge bite from the apple as he started up the car. A few minutes driving down the forest trail and Jim had already finished his apple, throwing the core out the window.  


Finally after a few hours of driving he made it to the airport, thanking a man in a black suit and shades that’d been waiting for him.  


“Thank you for taking my car, I should tip you- What was your name again?” He opened up his wallet, not paying attention to the man’s answer as he took out fifty euros and stuck them in the man’s breast pocket. “What a handsome name, I’ll see you when I get back!”  


“You’ll text me when you’re arriving from London, sir?”  


Jim huffed out a short laugh, looking up at the man. The man was at least half a foot taller than him, causing Jim to have to look right into his shades. “Of course.”  


As he waited for his plane, he tapped at his phone, the same dull expression on his face.  


**Should get there in a few hours, I’ll be expecting you and a car when I land. Don’t be late.**  


**JM**  


Jim had chewed at his lip absentmindedly before sending the message, he’d been trying to decide on whether to end the message with his initials or a cute and simple X. A small, undercase X would be flirtatious but he wasn’t actually in a flirtatious mood. He felt oddly soured up since last night. Glancing back down at his phone he wondered if he should send his friend a message.  


Nah, his ‘friend’ probably didn’t want to hear from him for a while. He shoved his phone into his coat pocket, and sat as patiently as he could.  


The plane ride wasn’t as boring as he thought it’d be, he’d had a nice woman sitting next to him. She’d even been kind enough to let him take the window seat.  


“Thank you,” he’d said to her, sitting comfortably and immediately glancing out the window. The plane hadn’t taken off yet, but he could feel the rolling excitement build up. He never got tired of watching the plane leave the ground.  


“It’s my pleasure, I’m afraid of heights anyways.” The woman smiled softly, her hands placed gently on a book that sat on her lap.  


“Even looking out to a sea of clouds freaks you out?” Jim asked, looking over to her to read her expression.  


“Even that,” She had young skin, but the bags around her eyes and her softly spoken voice stated otherwise. He highly assumed she was a single mother since around her wrist was a childish bracelet made from string and beads that spelled out ‘MUMMY’, but there was no ring to be seen on her hands.  


This plane ride, infact, could get really fun.  


“... What’re you reading?” Jim asked, pointing to the book on her lap. She lifted her hands briefly to show him the cover. It seemed to be a book about trains.  


“It might seem like a silly read, but it gets really interesting once you get to the American stories… The gold rush, that sort of thing.” She covered the book up again, looking over Jim’s face. His reply to her look was a gentle smile. “My son loves trains, so I thought I’d read up on some facts.” Jim raised his brows, playing up an honest and excited smile.  


“Oh, really? My brother works with trains! He runs a station and all that,” Jim rubbed his hands together briefly, then adjusted the cuffs on his sleeves.  


“That’s amazing! I’ll make sure to tell Cian about that.” She made eye contact with Jim before letting a flustered smile plaster her face. “Cian is my son.”  


“What a handsome name, makes me wonder what yours is.” Jim said warmly, trying to hold back a laugh when he watched the woman’s face almost glow pink.  


“Cara, and you are?” She stuck her hand out.  


“James, but you can call me Jim.” He shook her hand, smiling and letting a small laugh leave him when their hands left the embrace.  


Jim and Cara continued to have a soft conversation, he was making sure to say what he thought would make her excited. The feeling of making a stranger attracted to him filled him with an immense gratification, a spreading warmness. Like an egg cracking open in his skull.  


“What a silly lil’ guy,” Jim laughed at Cara’s story, glancing down at the bracelet around her wrist. “I’ve always wanted to have children to take care of, but just haven’t found the right woman yet.” He sighed, smiling to himself and leaning back in his chair. He could feel Cara’s eyes scanning him.  


She hesitated before smiling sweetly and asking, “How old are you?” Jim smiled back at her, interlacing his fingers and relaxing his posture.  


“Thirty three,” he said honestly, looking over her reaction. She seemed to mentally fall into herself.  


“Oh, you’re a bit young for me…” She trailed off before her eyes widened, blush messing up her tired face. “O-oh, I really didn’t mean to say that outloud!”  


He chuckled, shaking his head. “No worries, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I probably seem very immature now, huh?”  


“Not at all! I mean, I should’ve expected it… you do have such a young face, but you hold yourself quite well.” She hummed, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “Maybe you’re a wise soul.”  


“Maybe…” he sighed, speeding through his own thoughts before leaning his head against the window and looking out at the thick blanket of clouds below.  


When the plane was landing, he felt Cara carefully press her palm against his. He turned slightly to look at her, confusion striking his face before he looked down at their hands to see the crumpled piece of paper she’d left there. “My number,” she whispered, smiling brightly and getting up, leaving the plane before he could say anything. Jim lifted the piece of paper, staring at her neat and loving hand writing before crumpling it up and tossing it onto the ground.  


After getting his bag, he went to the airport parking lot and glanced around at the sea of parking spaces, many filled with cars he didn’t recognize. He went on his phone, typing with one hand:  


**Tell me where you are darling, I’ve landed x**  


**JM**  


He smiled to himself, the memory of Cara still lingering in his mind. Jim hadn’t found her appealing physically, but there was a warmth to mothers that he couldn’t ignore.  


Jim received a text stating the parking space, so he mulled along and glanced about. He loved looking at signs and people with the stupidest expression on his face, like a dumb tourist. It was like the personality version of a hat or a scarf. Hiding skin, hair… hiding the vulnerability of his genius. All the sheep and empty headed people would think he was dumbfaced, just like them.  


They would think that he was ordinary, just like them.  


He tapped on the car window, hearing the click of the car unlock and smiling as he opened the door.  


“If you would put my suitcase in the trunk I’d be MOST pleased.”  


Jim sat comfortably in the shotgun seat, drumming his fingers against his knee as he waited for his new little helper to finish up with his bag. When he came back, he looked him over and noted that he had a quiet yet serious demeanor, and was incredibly young. “What’s your name?” Jim asked.  


The boy started the car, glancing over to Jim before stating bluntly; “Moran.”  


“Your first name, silly.” Jim teased. He thought it was cute that such a young man was acting so grownup. Moran couldn’t be any older than twenty five.  


“Sebastian,” he pulled out of the parking spot, beginning his drive.  


“Sebastian Moran,” Jim let the name play around on his tongue before continuing to try and drive a conversation with his newfound prey. “Your parents had high hopes for you, Sebastian means ‘to be respected’, and the Morans are descendants of great and powerful people. Descendants of a great _Irish_ people. It seems that’s been watered down through your generations.” Jim pointed out, noting to Sebastian, in obviousness, his plain, middle class London accent. Sebastian stayed quiet, barely even looking over to Jim. “Though, I imagine you’re well on your way to gaining respect. I mean, you are helping out lil' ol’ me!” Jim pried.  


“James Moriarty,” Sebastian stated coldly, his mouth slightly open before he continued to speak, “What did your parents have planned, giving you that name?”  


Jim blinked, the image of his simple parents playing in his mind like a projector. He leaned back in his seat, smiling before answering Sebastian’s question. “James… it means ‘supplanter’. To be the one replacing, disturbing. I don’t think they thought much of it when they named me, but I think I live up to the title. I make people disappear, appear, without a single person caring.” He drummed at his knee with his fingers again.  


“And Moriarty?” Sebastian asked.  


“Navigator.”  


“What would you say you navigate?” If Sebastian wasn’t such a serious bloke, Jim would’ve fed on the tiniest bit of amusement that was suffocated in Sebastian’s tone.  


“I navigate my own path.”  


Sebastian’s car stopped in front of the emotionally grey and brick made apartment building, exiting the car and opening up his trunk. Jim jumped out of the car, jogging over to Sebastian and reaching his arms out for his suitcase. “I cannot thank you enough for driving me,” he cooed, receiving his luggage. Sebastian stared down at him dully before looking off down the street.  


“Business with you is thanks enough.”  


Jim entered the apartment, sighing and placing his luggage down near the couch. He kicked off his shoes, stretching, cracking his back and rubbing his neck afterwards. This was going to be a long trip.  


After taking a well deserved and short nap on the couch, Jim felt around briefly before rubbing his eyes to take in his surroundings. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table, opening up a text message he’d gotten from his housemate. Jim had yet to put an actual name to the contact, so it still displayed only his phone number.  


**Have you landed yet? Hope you had a safe trip.**  


Jim stared at the message, tasting the bitterness in it through the screen.  


**Landed a bit ago, me and Molly are watching TV now.**  


**JM**  


He kept it at that, putting his phone down and traveling over to his luggage. He opened it up, finding his laptop hidden under his clothes and opening it up right on his lap. Jim was too focused on his task to get up from the floor, even if his knees hurt from the wood.  


“Ghastly,” he muttered to himself, looking at the bright and kitten filled website that belonged to his supposed love interest, Molly. He reread her previous posts, chuckling to himself at her seemingly unaware state of silliness. She spoke of Sherlock like a high school crush, it made him shiver in a mix of dripping nausea and electric excitement. The image of Sherlock coming across the blog and reading Molly’s obvious and childish diary entries made his mind buzz. He wondered if Sherlock would have intense focus on her posts, or if he would brush it off without a care.  


Jim wondered how Sherlock felt about crushes, and love…  


He clicked on her newest post, a bright look of surprise washing over his face as he read it. This time she’d actually mentioned Sherlock by name instead of referring to him as ‘you-know-who’. Jim wondered if this was character development, or-  


**Oh!! How can I delete this?! I meant to say ‘you-know-who’ not his name!! Don’t read this! Nobody read this!**  


**Molly Hooper 26 March**  


Jim laughed out loud, a laughter that shook his body to the core. Her comment was so desperate that it was almost more cute than it was annoying. He continued to grin helplessly as he closed the tab and opened up a file titled ‘ovvwly’. Typing in the file password revealed the endless amounts of candid photos of Molly. Molly drinking coffee, Molly walking down one of the many halls at Barts, Molly being so close to Sherlock, talking to Sherlock-! Oh, how the image of the two being so close ramped up Jim’s heart with a sickening and fast pace. He squeezed his right fist until his knuckles went white, jealousy entering his mind and making it race. Oh, how he wanted what she had, and how he wished to pounce and prey upon the missed opportunities that were presented to her. Here she stood so close to his equal, yet she was nothing but a small crumb in the trail he had to follow to get inside and destroy Sherlock’s massive mind.  


He rubbed his palms together, breathing in and out slowly to calm himself from his overflowing thoughts. His racing thoughts. He looked over Molly’s face, trying to pin down what was so interesting about her, something he could maybe find genuine attraction to. Jim quickly came to his conclusion, opening up Molly’s blog again and typing out his comment- his love letter, in a way.  


**Hi, sorry, are you the lady that works in the morgue? The one with the nose?**  


**Jim 26 March**  


He stared at the screen, hunched over and suddenly becoming hyper aware of the deep ache in his knees and shins. Jim groaned, placing his laptop on the coffee table and standing up. His knees cracked loudly, which made him cringe and rub them. Jim wanted to continue looking at his computer screen, but decided to go against it. It’s not like Molly would reply immediately.  


Jim went to the small kitchen, looking around to try and find some snacks. Along with the furniture in the apartment that was provided, they should’ve provided some basic essential foods for him AND more. He opened up the cupboards, seeing a few plain flavored crisps. Hm… that should do. His hand gripped gently at one of the bags, he had to lift himself up on his toes to fully reach and get a good hold on the bag.  


“Too plain…” he murmured, going to the fridge and finding a container of yogurt. He picked it up, finding a small bowl and scooping three large spoonfuls of yogurt into it. Taking his ‘dip’ and crisps to his couch and laying down. He decided to open up his downloads, searching through the shows and movies he had torrent. Jim just needed to play the waiting game a bit.  


After watching at least thirty and hour of television on his computer, he started planning his outfit for going to Bart’s. He should be taking his ‘late shift’ soon if he wanted the story in his head to fit together. After choosing very carefully, he got dressed and headed to ‘his’ bedroom. He found a book bag on his desk, which he grabbed and began packing up for his journey.  


**Who are you?**  


**Molly Hooper 26 March**  


He read over the comment, smiling to himself. It’d been a good two hours since he had posted, and he had a feeling that he’d left her waiting and anxious for a reply. If it was a reply she needed, a reply he would give.  


**Sorry! I work in the IT dept. Stupid night shift.**  


**Jim 26 March**  


He closed his computer, getting up for a cup of coffee. He was in Bart’s cafeteria, though it was oddly quiet and empty. Jim wrapped his hands around the warmth of his paper cup, returning to his seat and opening up his computer. Anxiety crawled agonizingly through his brain as he saw there was no reply yet.  


**Are you all right? You’ve gone quiet…**  


**Jim 26 March**  


He drummed his right hand fingers on the table, picking up his coffee cup with his left. Jim didn’t even look at the cup as he sipped from it, his eyes glued to the screen. After a sip, his expression soured.  


“Too bitter,” he muttered, getting up again to pour more sugar into his cup. When he returned to his seat, he smiled, seeing Molly’s comment.  


**Sorry. I’m just feeling a bit silly. I didn’t know anyone read my blog. What’s wrong with my nose?**  


**Molly Hooper 26 March**  


The grin that split open his face was almost too gleeful, his fingers quickly typing away in a manic frenzy.  


**Nothing. It’s a cute nose. I hope you don’t mind me saying. I’m here all night so I need more coffee.**  


**Jim 26 March**

**Okay.**  


**Molly Hooper 26 March**  


An unsatisfied frown struck his face, his fingers hovering over his keyboard. Think, think… what can he say to such a dull reply? Not only did he feel unsatisfied with the woman, he felt disappointed.  


**Do you like coffee?**  


**Jim 26 March**  


He kept absentmindedly sipping at his drink, staring at the screen. The weird buzzing sensation came to him again, like his brain was full of holes that bees crawled through. His tongue searched for the adrenaline filled liquid but met tasteless paper instead. “Huh,” he stared into the empty cup, wondering when he’d drank all his coffee. Better get another cup.  


**Yes**  


**Molly Hooper 26 March**  


My, my… Molly was getting lazy with the grammar. Jim wondered if this was a sign of her excitement. Men probably never take interest or hold this long of a conversation with her.  


**Would you like to meet for coffee? In the canteen?**  


**Jim 26 March**  


He waited about five minutes, staring out the dark windows into the dreary, London city. Something about being away from Ireland made him feel empty. Well, more empty than he was comfortable with.  


**Erm… okay. 5 minutes?**  


**Molly Hooper 26 March**  


He squeezed his cup a little too hard before responding.  


**See you there!**  


**Jim 26 March**  


He closed his computer, relaxing in his chair. Jim began to straighten out his clothes, smoothing out his hair as he waited for Molly. His body almost jumped when he heard the small footsteps approach, and his eyes laid upon the quiet girl he’d been seeking.  


“Hey!” He smiled at her, pointing to the open seat near him.  


“Hey…” She hesitantly pulled out the seat, sitting down and eyeing Jim.  


A few days passed since him and Molly had first met up, and tonight they had their first official date planned. He’d asked Molly if she’d wanted to go anywhere specific, and she’d at first seemed unsure before deciding on a small pizza place near her work. Jim had also offered on paying for her meal, which she had responded with the confident text:  


**I can handle my own.**  


Jim hadn’t texted his housemate for a few days now, but something kept on reminding him of that presence in his life. He wondered if it was Molly’s awkwardness that was, in an odd way, fondly reminding him of his friend.  


He’d gotten there early, and while he waited for Molly he busied himself with the menu. Something about the whole night was making his stomach twist, so he bit the inside of his cheek and read each option one by one to distract himself.  


“Jim,” he looked up from the menu, smiling up at Molly. She actually looked nice tonight, wearing a light sweater instead of her lab coat. Then again, why had he expected her to come in a lab coat?  


“Hey, Molly!” He added a gentle quiver of bubbliness to his voice. This persona of ‘Jim from IT’ was what he had proudly been planning for weeks. The perfect, nervous, and optimistic guy. Maybe too perfect, but that would go over Molly’s head, he was sure of it. This fashion, what he had draped over his body, was so softly homosexual it made him want to laugh. Of course, he had to play the typical gay gently, so as not to set off any alarm signals in Molly’s head. Though, even if he had dressed up to be a raging homosexual, she probably wouldn’t have noticed. Oh, what desperate women do for men.  


“Sorry if I kept you waiting, I didn’t know you’d be here so early.” She nervously pulled out a seat for herself, picking up the menu. “This place is really good, I come here with my Mum sometimes.” He almost could sway back and forth to her absent minded talking.  


“Yeah, I’ve passed by the place myself, just haven’t had the time to come in.” He hummed, putting his menu down on the table and interlacing his fingers together. “It’s very… warm.” Jim felt her eyes move over him. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but was interrupted by the server.  


“Hello, Molly! What can I get you and your date today?” Jim could feel heat radiate from Molly at him being referred to as her ‘date’, but even more interesting was that the server knew her by name. He watched her lips move as she requested her order, but didn’t hear a word she said. “And for you, sir?” The server asked him.  


“Just a slice of cheese, thanks.”  


After the waiter had left, Molly tightened her ponytail a bit before asking Jim, “How long have you been in London?”  


“Would it surprise you if I said most of my life?” Jim replied, smiling at her before taking a sip of his water.  


“It wouldn’t, though if that’s the case then I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around. I feel like I would’ve noticed, there’s not many people with your accent around here...” She studied him nervously, he could tell from how she held herself that she had been unsure if this was an appropriate topic for her to bring up.  


“I’m really new, and I’m honestly a bit too shy to talk to other staff.” He sucked in some air through his teeth, rubbing the back of his neck. He perked up an eyebrow, portraying that he felt awkward. “That’s why I messaged you through your blog instead of just… walking up to you and saying 'hello'.” Jim hesitated before continuing, “You are very pretty, by the way. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it already.” Seeing her smile sheepishly at his words made his brain catch fire, pride at his own smoothness fueling him.  


“Um, thank you,” Molly tried to calm her smile down by making it tight lipped. “Where were you working before?”  


“I did some freelance photography while I was finishing up classes,” he had the answers to most any question she could ask about this lovely boy he’d created. Creating the characters was the second best thing, right behind acting them out.  


“Oh, sounds lovely. I wouldn’t mind seeing some pictures,” she had genuine interest. Odd, he’d made that answer purposefully dull. Maybe it was ‘similars attract’ in this case.  


After their dinner date he walked out with her, putting on his jacket and looking around the streets in the cold night. “Thanks so much for taking me out, it certainly gets boring just working and being home all the time.”  


He glanced down at her and smiled softly, “Don’t I know it.”  


He’d walked her home, it was close by, and then finally got to his place. He kicked off his shoes, collapsing onto the couch while looking at his phone.  


**Me and Molly got pizza tonight, it was really good. How’s work going?**  


**JM**  
He stared at his phone for ten seconds, waiting for a reply before becoming bored with waiting and decided to take a nap instead. Jim woke up the next morning feeling well rested, but slightly panicked- he hadn’t meant to sleep that long. But what did it matter? He didn’t actually have anywhere to be.  


There were two new texts sent to his phone, which he opened greedily while rubbing an eye with his free hand.  


**Work is fine.**  


“Bitter,” he muttered to himself, seeing the text message that was sent afterwards, two hours later.  


**No reply, I see… You and Molly must be having a wonderful time.**  


Jim put a mockingly shocked face on as he gasped, “Very bitter!!!” He grinned, typing up his own little reply.  


**No need to be crabby, I know you miss me. ;) I’ll be home before you know it!**  


**JM**  


He put his phone down, absently looking around his apartment. Jim wondered what he’d have for breakfast, and when he’d actually gain the interest and motivation to eat.  


Before Jim knew it, it'd been two and a half weeks, Molly and him had already gone on three dates and were planning their fourth. She must’ve thought they clicked well together.  


**I’m getting off work early, can I drop by and see you? Xx**  


Jim sent the message, feeling so sneaky. He’d only just gotten to Bart’s to see her, and he was almost shaking with excitement. He knew she was in the company of _him_ , Sherlock, ‘you-know-who’... The excitement was impending upon him, like a room that grew smaller and smaller with each second. James was finally going to be able to see how his obsession, his intelligent experiment, acted in the flesh.  


**Of course, Sherlock’s here, hope you don’t mind. Can’t wait to see you x**  


**Molly**  


He smiled, typing back:  


**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**  


He felt no need to sign it, she knew perfectly well that only little Jim would give her the blessing of so many kisses.  


Jim went around a corner, spotting Molly heading towards her work space. He stayed quiet, trailing behind so as to catch the door before it even closed without alerting her of his presence.  


Jim entered the room, nervously gripping at the door. “Oh, sorry…” He trailed off, darting his eyes straight to Sherlock. He was _here_.  


“Jim! Hi!” Molly had a look of surprise on her face, but a relieved smile as well. She had obviously not expected him to be there so quick. Jim lifted his brows, hesitantly standing there like a vampire, waiting for permission to enter further. “Come in, come in,” Molly beckoned, ignoring Sherlock, who side eyed her and raised his brows. Jim wondered, hoped, that he was the reason Sherlock would have such a delicious reaction. James walked slowly over to Molly, not able to make his weak smile falter away from his lips. “Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes,” Molly pointed out excitedly.  


“Ah!” Jim exclaimed with extreme interest, though he tried to hide it some. His eyes were focused solely on Sherlock.  


“And, uh…” Molly trailed off, trying to introduce who Jim already knew as John, he didn’t need to listen to her at this point. “Sorry,” her short apology made Jim perk up, holding back a laugh. If he’d been Molly, he wouldn’t have made such a mistake with names.  


“John Watson, Hi.” John said, hiding his irritation. This seemed like a common occurrence.  


Jim paid no mind to John, answering the greeting but still focusing on Sherlock. “Hi… So, you’re Sherlock Holmes!” He exhaled, clasping his hands together. Why did he feel so exhausted? Maybe it was the feeling of John’s eyes scanning him, which made Jim curious. He wished he had more time and care to mess around with John, he seemed like a man with lots of business for Jim to poke his excited nose into. “Molly’s told me all about you,” he glanced over to Molly, who sheepishly smiled down at the ground. “Are you on one of your cases?” He stepped closer to Sherlock, wanting to examine what he was doing with the microscope. Jim almost shuttered at the change of energy with him entering the room, John stepping away from him, hands behind his back… Like a good, little soldier.  


“Jim works in IT upstairs, that’s how we met!” Molly explained to Sherlock, who seemed to show no interest. Jim wanted his interest more than anything. He had to fight the impulse to smack him, just to see what would happen. “Office romance,” Molly smiled, and Jim laughed at her little comment. Oh, if only it could be that simple for little Molly Hooper. A sting of electricity shot up Jim’s back as he saw Sherlock finally look up at him, glancing over him quickly before looking back down at his work. The way he barely looked up from his work actually reminded him of his housemate, making the scenery of Ireland strike across his mind. It made the image of his friend, hard at work, smiling, pouting, all spring across his mind and run about quickly like an anxious animal. It’s like he recognized Sherlock, truly and dearly… Jim wondered if he talked like him too-  


“Gay.” Well, nevermind than. His housemate would never utter that word. Jim had put so much work in his persona, it was exciting to have someone finally recognize the meaning of it all. He wanted to laugh, laugh his face off, laugh until it hurt, but he kept awkwardly silent to match Molly’s sudden frown.  


“Sorry, what?” The look she gave Sherlock excited Jim, she had pure anger in her eyes. All of what Jim and Molly had been building up for weeks came tumbling down like a game of jenga before them.  


“Nothing, um, hey.” Jim inspected the curves of Sherlock’s tight and sardonic smile.  


“Hey,” Jim replied, playing up the breathlessness he truly felt. He then, not so accidentally, knocked over some equipment, letting it tumble to the ground. His sweaty hands came to the rescue, picking up what he could with a small ‘sorry, sorry’. Like a magician, he placed the small piece of paper he’d written his number on under some of the equipment he placed back onto the counter top. “Well, I better be off,” he scratched at his arm awkwardly, not wanting to leave, but knowing he’d done everything he needed to do. “I’ll see you at The Fox, about sixish?” He said, placing a hand on Molly’s back.  


“Yeah!” She said with excitement, but he could see the growing numbness that had filled her eyes. Oh, tonight would be fun.  


“Bye,” he said, hearing a small reply from Molly, even though he’d been looking at Sherlock when he said it. “It was nice to meet you,” Jim tested the waters again, but still Sherlock paid no attention to him. With that, he made his way out of the lab.  


That night he waited at a small table in The Fox, typing away on his phone.  


**Last night in London, should be heading home soon.**  


**JM**  


He sent the message and put his phone in his pocket, looking up to see Molly approach him. Jim plastered a smile on his face before it magically faltered to a small frown. Molly’s brows were furrowed, her face tinted an aggravated red, or what he guessed was red. It was hard to tell with the bar lighting.  


“Jim,” she seemed like she was trying to relax her posture, to not seem as upset as she really was, but nothing could hide from James.  


“Molly?” He said her name like a meek question, like he was afraid of what she’d do to him.  


“I am incredibly crossed with you,” she breathed out the words, seemingly not knowing what else to say.  


“I-I can see that… what’s wrong? How about you sit down and tell me-”  


“Why would you play with me like that? Play with my-my head like I’m some child!” She exhaled, closing her eyes to try and collect her thoughts. “Why would you date me if you’re gay? I’m just so confused…” She looked anywhere but Jim, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. “Sherlock says you’re probably a cheater, too.”  


“A cheater?” Jim widened his eyes, trying his best not to laugh at how perfect his plan went.  


“Obviously!” She whisper-shouted, not wanting to bring too much attention to them. “Slipping your number near the equipment? Real classy. Does your boyfriend know how much of a slag you are?” The surprise on Jim’s face became genuine, the sudden shift in expression actually scared Molly for a second. “What? Hit a nerve?”  


“I… I don’t have a boyfriend.” He said bluntly, his brain trying to piece together how Sherlock could deduce something that was so wrong.  


“He said when you looked at him you seemed focused yet distant… like you were thinking of someone else.” She crossed her arms, staring down at Jimmy. “I hope you have a lovely time with your boy toy.” And with that, Molly walked out, leaving Jim alone to his quick thoughts and hot, pink face. When he was sure that she was long gone, he took out his phone and called his ride.  


“Moran, she’s gone now, why don’t you come and pick me up?” The usual purr in his voice had disappeared, he was much too irritated to flirt.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for brief use of the f slur! Otherwise, enjoy!

I was practicing my lock picking skills on the test locks that came with the kit, chewing on my lip as I focused. The locks at first were difficult, but the more I did them, the easier they became. My speed was also improving immensely. When I heard the door open, I knew it was Jimmy coming back from his trip. I almost flinched because I had to fight the urge to hide my lock picking from him, but I knew that there was no reason to. He could be upset with me, I didn’t care.  


“Hey,” Jimmy’s eyes seemed to be burning into my skin. He hadn’t even closed the door yet, he was just standing in the doorway, letting a cold breeze come into the house.  


“Close the door,” I requested, not even looking up from the lock I was picking. “I don’t want to have to put on an extra layer.” He seemed to hesitate before doing as he was told.  


“Not a ‘hello’ back?” He asked, seeming to try and drip humour into his voice…but it was off. It wasn’t genuine humour, it was completely forced and readable. I looked over to him, furrowing my brows as I tried to figure out what was the matter. His grip on his suitcase was tight, his face in a soft scowl. My staring must’ve irritated him.  


“Sorry, I was focusing. Hey.” He continued to stare at me, his eyes widening for a split second before going back to their usual lidded look.  


“I understand,” his voice was soft, like he might become sick at any moment. “I’m gonna go to my room, I need a nap.” I didn’t reply, just glanced away from him before continuing my work.  


Five hours later he came back downstairs, seeming refreshed and… as ordinary as he could be.  


“Are you upset with me?”  


I looked up from my computer, my stomach twisting as I took in his question. “Why would I be upset with you?”  


“Because I’ve been a bad friend,” I closed my computer now, leaning back into the couch and focusing on Jimmy. He was scratching at his arm, looking as vulnerable as a baby bird.  


“I’m not angry at you, I just feel a bit edgy.” I hesitated before continuing, “Is something wrong? Did you have a bad time in London?”  


“Oh, naw! I had a wonderful time! Well, until the end of it… I was going to stay for a few more days, but ended up coming home early…” He looked down at the ground.  


“What happened?” I asked, leaning forward and patting the spot next to me on the couch.  


Jimmy sat down, his posture slightly hunched as he sighed out, “I’ll tell you…”

… 

James had to hold back a grin when he sat down next to his housemate. Pity is one of the best ways to be redeemed.  


“Me and Molly, we…” He trailed off, feeling his friend’s hovering gaze. James’ words were so predictable, but he knew that using the drama would pull in his forgiving friend. “We broke up.”  


“You broke up with her?” His friend asked almost too quickly, as if he’d been expecting James to be the initiator in everything.  


He looked up at him without moving his head, “Naw, she broke up with me…” he clasped his hands together, feeling his friend look at him with a blank expression. Sherlock’s disinterested face flashed across his mind, making Jim oddly sick to his stomach.  


“Why?”  


Jim opened his mouth slightly, as if he was trying to think of what to say. He touched the back of his teeth with his tongue, nodding slowly. His friend’s face twisted in slight worry, as if he could feel distress radiating from Jim like heat. “She said that… I was too much of a ‘faggot’ to keep her satisfied.” His friend visibly flinched at the word, making Jim internally feel the emotional equivalent of _Gotcha’_! This time he really smiled, but he played it off as nervousness, looking down at his hands. “Women just can’t seem to handle sensitive guys like us, huh?”  
“Yeah… yeah.”  
“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” He looked at his friend, who was now avoiding eye contact while nodding.  
Interesting.


	14. Chapter 14

“Oh, you really don’t have to. I can put something together.” I got up from the couch, following Jimmy to the kitchen. He had several bags of groceries in his arms.  


“I insist,” he placed the bags on the counter. “Unless you want to help me with dinner tonight.” Jimmy wiped some sweat from his brow, glancing over to me.  


“Sure, I’ll help,” I began putting away the groceries as he started to get out the cooking instruments he needed.  


“Thank you!” He chirped to me, leaning against the kitchen counter when he was done getting what he needed. Jimmy watched as I put away groceries, a lazy smile on his face. “Would you get my laptop from my room? The recipe I want to use is bookmarked,” he requested, watching me nod and leave the kitchen to go upstairs.  


When I got to his room I saw his laptop laying on his bed. I went to pick it up, but right before I placed my hands on it I heard the chirping of a phone notification. My posture straightened as I looked around the room, trying the figure out where the sound was coming from. I heard it again, this time my eyes landed on his dresser. I hesitated, looking towards the bedroom door before going over to his dresser. I opened the top drawer slowly, seeing nothing but socks and underwear. The amount and variety he had of each made me feel a warmth grow in the back of my skull, but I quickly shut the drawer before the warmth could spread to my face. My hands slowly trailed down to the middle drawer, opening it up slowly and seeing a mess of lazily tossed in shirts, and amongst them were at least ten phones. A chill ran through my spine as I slowly picked up the one with a lit up screen, seeing that it had a text from an unknown number. I couldn’t fully see the text since the phone was locked, but I stared, trying to figure out why Jimmy had so many damn phones.  


“What’s taking so long?!” I jumped as I heard him yell from downstairs, shutting the drawer and shoving the phone into my pocket. Grabbing the laptop, I headed downstairs.  


Later that night I laid in bed, staring at the phone screen and then setting it back down to stare at my ceiling. The items that Jimmy seemed to be accumulating were becoming extremely suspicious, causing me to run through several theories in my head. The craziest yet most plausible one was now overtaking me, like a ridiculous faith.  


Jimmy must be a spy.  


I mean, it seemed so obvious now. The codes, the gun, his strange behavior, the P.O. box, his long trips, the unreasonable amount of phones… He was playing multiple people, and maybe the one that had been my friend all those years ago was the only true remnants of him. Or that childhood memory died long ago, and now who knows who he is now. Jimmy could be grasping and pulling at identities to string himself together like a ragdoll. Whatever the case, ‘Jimmy’ was living in this house with me like a ghost. A figment, a dead man walking. And if Jimmy is a spy… does this mean he’s in danger? Are there people after him? What is his cause?  


I wondered when he became a spy, and how many lives he led before he came to my doorstep again.  


Is Molly even real?  


Over several hours I tried again and again to get into his phone. What were numbers that were important to him? Was it random? No, only psychopaths make their passwords random. Think, think…  


1234? No. Damnit!  


Endless and endless times I tried. Sometimes I’d have to wait because it would lock me out. Then, on my last string of hope, I tried it. His age, and the random number in his email.  


3317\. His phone opened to me like forbidden treasure, my palms were sweaty as I gripped at the phone. I immediately went to his messages, seeing the two texts from the unknown number.  


**Molly is in extreme distress since she broke up with you. I'll be honest, I’m glad you’re gone. It’s incredibly difficult to get her to focus when she’s texting you all the time. But... you took advantage of her being desperate, wouldn’t you say that is just OH so WRONG, Jim?**  


**SH**  


Okay, so Molly is real… but what the hell is ‘SH’ talking about?  


**But in all seriousness, your disappearance is driving Molly insane. I don’t care enough about you to try and find you, not because the risk of finding a gay man after he disappears is slim, but because I think you’ve gone missing of your own accord. Your first impression screamed that you are one to slip away. I know you’ll want to flirt with me since this is why you provided this number, but I would advise against it. Just send a message to confirm you’re still alive so that I may sooth this hysterical Molly Hooper.**  


**SH**  
I stared at the message, not knowing what to do. After a minute, I decided to hide the phone in my sock drawer and go to sleep. Maybe my dreams will sort this one out.


	15. Chapter 15

Jimmy was in the palm of his friend’s hand, looking up at him. Jim was a seed in this fourth grader’s hand, then was met with a suffocating darkness as he was buried. Slowly he grew, and with each inch he would catch a glimpse of the boy as he got older. The years after eighth grade became a blur, his friend taking the shape of many people he’d met in the past. All the people that lead him here.  


Finally, he grew into a tree, watching over his friend as he went about his day. He watched as he laid in the grass, laid by his roots, climbed his limbs. When his friend finally got to the top of his branches, Jim could smell smoke. Fire consumed them both, and Jim awoke in his bed, sweating like he’d just escaped an inferno. 

… 

“Are you sure you don’t want any help with dinner tonight? You’re probably tired from all the cleaning you’ve done-”  


“Nope! I’m completely fine!” Jimmy quickly replied, not even looking at me as he prepared the meal. Every time I had offered to help him with a chore he ignored me or blew me off.  


“... Is something wrong?” I asked, seeing my grandmother in his posture. She would get all hunched up when she really focused and would clean the whole house in random sprees. Other times she just would stay in bed all day.  


“I’m fine.”  


“Is there something you’re not telling me?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest and leaning against the kitchen doorway. “You don’t seem yourself.” He gave a slow glance towards me, pausing his work. The way his wide eyes stayed unblinking made me feel at unease, like he was trying to read me. His body stayed still, like he was containing an emotion he couldn’t articulate. Rage? Terror? Who knew.  


“Nothing is wrong… I just want to be alone right now,” he tried to reassure me. I rolled my eyes, leaving the kitchen to go to my room. I had better questions to get the answers to.  


**Who is this?**  


I had thought for a good five minutes on what to type in response to SH, but ended up deciding to keep it simple. Putting the phone back into its hiding place, I laid down on my bed. 

… 

Jim could barely look at his own housemate, he felt a fiery heat consume him every time he saw his face. He could hear the lucid screams from his nightmares every time he talked. The dream was so vivid yet it was nothing at all. James knew it didn’t mean anything, so why was it chewing away at him? Why did he have the acidic feeling in his mind that he had to leave, leave his ‘friend’, but at the same time stay and undo everything he’d done. Staying, he knew, was the best and most sane option. He still had yet to figure out how he was going to kill his housemate off when this was all over.  


He figured he had to kill him. _Had_ to. What was the better option? Jim knew it was what made the most sense. Yet… something pulled at him. Nagged at him. Earlier, when he had been cleaning a little, he was wiping off the lock on the front door. Feeling his fingers brush over the keyhole made him think about how his friend could easily break in. He wondered how useful that could be in the future. If… maybe he could have him by his side, putting his skills to use.  


But that was a silly thought. 

… 

**What do you mean ‘who is this’? I really don’t have time to explore your goldfish attention span. I’m sure you fondly remember slipping me your number. Sherlock Holmes. You said the bloody name yourself.**  


**SH**

I scratched at my head, trying to go through my mind to figure out if I recognized the name. To no one's surprise, I didn’t recognize it at all. But, if this man was to be trusted… Jimmy had slipped him his number. Jimmy had possibly been cheating on Molly. Shortly after I received the text I went onto my computer to look up the name, 'Sherlock Holmes'. It was so ridiculously posh, I felt like it had to be fake. The only thing that popped up were some guys’ blogs, the proclaimed Sherlock and apparently his flatmate John. Sherlock’s posts were long and boring, usually pertaining to subjects I did not care for at all. But John’s… Well, the posts where he mentioned Sherlock were practically novel length, but skimming them I could see that they solved crimes. Well, Sherlock solved them and John recorded them.  


Maybe I should make a blog?  


That’s an off topic thought. I need to focus on what is at hand, Sherlock is a detective. A detective who Jim had interacted with… With each passing day my spy theory makes a sad amount of sense. 

**Sorry, this isn’t Jim. Why are you looking for him?**

Now I just need to wait for a reply...


	16. Chapter 16

“...Odd.” Sherlock stared down at his phone, hunched over in his chair. John glanced up from the book he was reading to look at Sherlock, pursing his lips when he realized the intense concentration on his comrade’s face.  


“What’s odd?” He asked reluctantly, his thumb rubbing gently against the last word he’d read on the page.  


“Molly’s missing, homosexual lover is leading me down a rabbit hole.” John raised a brow at that, making a dog ear on his page and setting the book down.  


“He’s texted you back? Took him long enough.” He got up, going over to Sherlock and leaning over his shoulder to read the message on his phone. “Oh, strange. Must have given you the wrong number.”  


“No. That’s not possible.”  


“Not possible? They said it right there, they’re not Jim.”  


“Did you even read the sentence he typed afterwards?” Sherlock was practically shoving the phone in John’s face to prove his point. “‘Why’re you looking for him’? He obviously knows Jim, if he hadn’t he wouldn’t have said anything.” John gently pushed the phone away from his face, refocusing his eyes after being assaulted by the bright screen. He opened his mouth briefly, curving his lips in a small ‘O’ shape as he thought of a reply. Sherlock stared at him with a serious look, a hint of eagerness in his eyes.  


“So, Jim gave you his friend’s number?” John squinted, tilting his head in confusion. “That seems so...”  


“Unnecessary. Stupid. Idiotic.” Sherlock submitted his sentence finishers, pressing his fingers together in thought. “So why would he do it?” He continued to look at John, waiting for his reply. John rolled his eyes, wetting his lips and trying to put some amount of energy into caring about Sherlock’s trail of bread crumbs.  


“I’d have no idea. Maybe he just wanted to toy with you, I mean… I don’t know much about gay men, but I wouldn’t say you fit the image. He perhaps knew that but wanted to flirt anyways-”  


“Wrong!” Sherlock stood up abruptly, making John’s body seize and grip with his hand at the back of Sherlock’s chair.  


“Could you perhaps be quieter and less ecstatic when trying to prove that you have superior intellect?” John snapped, which Sherlock ignored before starting to pace about and continue his string of thoughts.  


“The only _true_ answer, my little Watson, is that Jim gave me his number. Digit for digit. No mistakes made.” John stared at him, seeming less than impressed.  


“Your evidence, Mr. Holmes?” He muttered in a mocking tone.  


“Jim was obviously excited to see me,” he turned to face John, putting his hands to his side, imitating Jim’s submissive posture. “If I were to add a dash of narcissism to my deduction, I would say I was his exact type.”  


John snorted, “That’s an understatement, he was practically drooling over you.”  


Sherlock snapped his fingers, smiling gently. “Exactly! The more reason to give me his number.”  


“So… What’s it doing with his friend?”  


“Not just any friend,” Sherlock’s smile grew into a grin. “A _boyfriend_. You remember how I told Molly that not only is Jim a homosexual but most likely disloyal? I have a feeling that his phone may have landed into the hands of a,” Sherlock gave a small, sickening grin, “not-so-happy ‘partner’!” He hummed, staring John in the eyes to look for a sign of understanding.  


John blinked, glancing down a bit in serious thought. “A boyfriend so jealous that he’s confiscated Jim’s phone. That’s…”  


“Obsessive. Outrageous. Teetering on the edge of _abusive_ ,” Sherlock hummed in excitement. “If the latter is correct, well… we may have a rescue mission on our hands!” Sherlock’s smile quickly dropped into an apathetic frown when he noticed John’s gawk of disapproval. “Do you find fault in my theory?”  


“No, Sherlock, you’re brilliant,” John assured him, making Sherlock beam quickly before he continued. “Let’s just not get excited about _abuse_ , we have a serious case on our hands.”  


Sherlock gave a grimace, or… an impression of a grimace before replying. “Yes, of course, my apologies. I’m just pleasantly surprised.” He lifted the phone back up to his face, texting a quick reply. 

**Jim is the least of my worries now. It’s you that has my attention. You should be hearing from me again soon.**  


**SH**

After he sent the message, he smirked, shoving his phone in his pocket. “John, grab your coat. We have a little Miss Hooper to visit.” He headed for the door before stopping, leaning back to scold John. “And for God’s sake get a bookmark, folding the pages damages the poor thing!” He headed down the stairs, calling over his shoulder, “So much for preaching about abuse!” 

… 

When I read the message, it felt like my stomach jolted into my chest. I had a sick, sick feeling that I had gotten myself into more trouble texting Sherlock than it was worth. Putting the phone back, hidden away amongst my clothes, I swore from looking at Jimmy's phone ever again.

…  


Molly was quietly typing away at a document, humming to herself. She was working a late shift, but didn’t mind. Her own company was all she needed most of the time. That didn’t last long though. The stool under her scooted back as her body jumped, the loud sound of Sherlock and his friend barging in almost taking the life out of her.  


“Molly!” Sherlock raced over to her, his tall form leaning over her like she was a child. “Good news!”  


“And bad news!” John added, pursing his lips and giving Sherlock a glance before looking back at Molly.  


“... Okay. Good news first, please.” She furrowed her brows in concern, looking up at Sherlock.  


“We’ve gotten a reply from Jim,” She raised her brows, gasping softly before smiling.  


“Well… It’s good that he replied to someone. What’d he say?”  


“He,” Sherlock dug the phone out of his pocket, opening up the texts and handing the device over to her, “didn’t say anything. Read.” Molly gave a concerned look before putting her attention towards the phone. She chewed at her bottom lip, her posture becoming more tense and confused the more she read.  


“So... you got the wrong number?” Sherlock sighed at her response, shaking his head and explaining the situation. Her face began to pale. “Oh god,” she squeezed her knees as she tried to contain her boiling stress.  


“That’s why we came to ask you some questions,” John said, glancing up at Sherlock.  


Sherlock nodded. “It’ll help us find Jim and perhaps take him away from his… situation. If he wants to leave it, of course.” Molly glared in confusion.  


“Sherlock,” John gently scolded.  


“Right. So,” Sherlock furrowed his brows, “did Jim have friends, or anyone, that he talked to?”  


Molly sat quietly, trying her best to think over memories that she’d been trying to shove away. “Well, honestly, no. He never really mentioned having any friends, and if he’d get a call he seemed extremely… irritated to receive it.” She paused before adding, “He always got the calls on his second phone.”  


“Second phone?” John asked, raising a brow.  


“Yes, he told me it was a work phone. But now that I think about it…”  


“Leading a double life; expected. Perhaps the calls were from his boyfriend.” Sherlock thought out loud, staring off a bit. “So, there was no one at all? You’re telling me he never talked to anyone, no colleagues, nothing?”  


Her eyes widened a bit before speaking again, “Well, he did have this one friend, actually! He picked Jim up from my flat once, I waved to him from my steps.”  


“Would you be able to describe how he looked?” Sherlock asked.  


She nodded slowly, chewing at her bottom lip again. “I… I think so, yes.”  


Sherlock took his phone back from Molly, starting to dial in Lestrade's personal cell. “I’ll call Lestrade. We need a sketch artist.” 

… 

Apparently I’m horrible at keeping promises.  


I couldn’t sleep, just kept staring at my ceiling as my mind raced. There must be… other things on Jimmy’s phone. I lazily searched through my drawer and found it, quickly getting back into bed and turning on the phone. I glanced at the surprising lack of applications, deciding to open up his texts to see who else he’d been contacting.  


My eyes immediately shot to the name Molly.  


I had to read this, how did he act in a relationship? Opening up the messages revealed an assault of texts from Molly. She was… begging. Begging for him to reply, begging for him to know she was sorry.

**I don’t care that you’re gay, just please respond. You have me worried sick.**

Gay... Gay!? What the fuck was she talking about? First Sherlock, now Molly? Gay would be the last thing I’d describe Jimmy as. He had expressed to me how much he liked women, all the girlfriends he had, his puppy love for Molly. I chewed at the inside of my cheek trying to think of what kind of disturbing misunderstanding had to happen to have him end up like this. Then, a cold chill struck me; Jimmy had read all of her messages and ignored them. Ignored her. His girlfriend. Was he just too upset to even respond? I wanted to believe that was true, even though the thought of Jimmy being heartbroken made me want to tear up. I scrolled up a bit more, trying to see some of their earlier conversations. I wanted to see how he talked when he was in love. 

**Lovely weather today, wish I could see you right now. The sun shining is dull without your presence.**

I felt a tingle within my chest seeing the picture he sent to her after his message. He was smiling softly, sitting in front of a computer.

 **Stop being silly Jim, you know Sherlock hates when I respond to you at work.**  


**MH**

**Sorry dear. :( I should give you a kiss for every annoying text I send. Xx**

**I’d be receiving an awful lot of kisses then…**  


**MH**

**I don’t mind. :)**

**Well, in that case… Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**  


**MH**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

My stomach twisted with every X, and I could feel my grip around the phone tighten. Something about the way they talked to each other… I thought it’d be funny to read, but now it’s only making me sick. I prepared myself to stomach more of the love-gooey text messages when suddenly I heard a click from my door. Quickly, I shoved the phone under my pillow, closing my eyes and pretending to be asleep. I tried to stay dead still, my racing thoughts questioning on if I should pretend to snore or stay silent. I decided to go with the latter, listening carefully to the door open.  


Jimmy was standing in my doorway, I could only imagine him staring at the limp form of my body in bed. I heard him gently say my name in a small question, before the silence consumed the house once again. My heart raced as I struggled to stay quiet, listening for any sign of him leaving. I heard him shift his footing, a small hum and sigh leave his body, and then he slowly left my room, closing the door behind him.  


I let out a small sigh of relief, deciding that that was enough reading for the night.  


Does he always check in on me at night?


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some violence, sexual acts, and homophobic language! Enjoy!

Greg watched Molly describe who she saw to the sketch artist with anxiety written all over him. He was hugging his waist with one arm, and covering his mouth with his freehand. “Are we thinking that’s him?” Lestrade asked, glancing towards Sherlock.  


“What do you mean?” Sherlock pried. John walked up to them with two cups of coffee, which both men thanked him for.  


“That he’s the bastard holding Jim captive?” Lestrade sipped his coffee, letting the bitter taste sit in his mouth.  


“... No. I genuinely think he’s a friend of Jim’s. Maybe his only friend. If he was Jim’s boyfriend, this jealousy induced disappearance would’ve started much earlier.”  


“He also wouldn’t have picked Jim up from Molly’s if he’s the jealous type.” John added, causing Sherlock to raise a brow. A proud smile flashed across his face before he nodded in agreeance.  


Greg furrowed his brows slightly before continuing to ask, “So… any theories to why Jim dated Molly?” He glanced over to her, “Poor girl…” Sherlock stayed silent, following Greg’s gaze before answering:  


“Perhaps he was experimenting.” Sherlock knew this answer was weak, but was too prideful around Lestrade to give an honest ‘I haven’t the slightest idea’. John knew this, which he told through a glance and a smirk he gave to Sherlock.  


“‘Experimenting’ is pretty brave for an outrageously gay man with no social life.” John said, his hands behind his back. Lestrade nodded in agreeance, his expression similar to that of a confused child.  


Sherlock let out a dry laugh before pursing his lips to keep himself from smiling. “Rude description.”  


“You’re one to talk,” John replied. Lestrade glanced between them before sighing and deciding not to try and bother with asking more questions. 

… 

_It wasn’t how I expected,_ James wrote down in a small black journal that he had recently bought. He thought it had looked cute, and it seemed stylish and fun to try out some of his writing skills. But after having written daily, it began to depress him. _He wasn’t how I expected. Don’t get me wrong, he was gorgeous and brilliant in person, but not how I imagined. I’m not satisfied._ James paused after writing the sentence, his pen hovering over the paper before he continued, _I’m never satisfied._

… 

“Jimmy!” I knocked on his bedroom door, hearing him open and close one of his drawers before replying with a small, ‘Aye?’. I assumed he was getting dressed, but I was quick to doubt this theory. “I’ve made some breakfast, come downstairs!”  


“Thank you so much,” Jimmy sighed as he quickly got to the kitchen table and began eating. “I really don’t appreciate you enough.”  


“You flatter me, Jimmy.” I said dryly as I leaned back in my chair. I gazed at him, watching him eat until he noticed my eyes on him. He locked eyes with me, slowing his chewing before swallowing and stopping his movement altogether.  


“Yes?” He asked, sitting up straight. A smile curled up against my lips, and I tried to suppress a laugh.  


“Would you want to take a walk later tonight?” I looked over his face to try and find a physical response. His face was blank before his eyes widened slightly. He smiled and nodded.  


“Sure, I’ll just need to run some errands first.”  


I waved Jimmy farewell, hugging myself as I watched his car leave. Without him, the house felt so large and dull. With a glance towards the couch, my eyes tricked me into seeing my late grandmother sitting on the couch, knitting. This made me smile, but the smile quickly faded. Her face brought no lasting joy, just a heavy weight that emptied my chest. There must be something to clean up this mess in my head, to wash away the boredom, to-  


I wonder if Sherlock’s texted me! I haven’t checked since last night! 

… 

Sherlock stared down at the sketch, taking in each feature before handing it over to Lestrade. John peaked over, raising a brow. “Seems young,” John commented.  


“Get this out to the press, we’ll need to have him reported as a missing person.” Sherlock requested, a mischievous smile going over his lips. 

… 

I opened up the phone, not knowing whether to be disappointed or not that there had been no new messages from Mr. Holmes. Though, this did give an opportunity for me to look through more of Molly and Jimmy’s texts. Scrolling up, I landed on a random conversation to get me started. 

**I had fun tonight**

**Did you? I was a bit nervous, honestly. I don’t see guys this much outside of planned dates. You just seem to sneak your way into my head.**  


**MH**

**;) Ditto. You do something to me that I can’t explain. The power you have over me…**

I think I’m going to be sick. 

**By power do you mean when I hold you down and choke the holy spirit out of you?**  


**MH**

**Yes, but I especially love the faces you make. I think you enjoy it more than you admit. No woman has ever treated me like that. X**

**And no man has ever requested I treat him like he’s going to be killed, but here we are.**  


**MH**

I felt my stomach turn, throwing the phone across the room and letting it hit the wall. A chill ran through me when I realized what I had done, quickly running over to the phone to see the damage I caused. The phone was fine, but I’d made a small dent in my wall from my rage. My breathing was quick and manic, even with my attempts at slowing it down. I am such an idiot, a sad, sad idiot.  


After putting the phone away, I went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, watching as the water dripped down my red, twisted face. It felt like I was staring at the devil. I placed a wet hand against my heart, not caring if my shirt got wet. Why is it beating so fast? Why do my insides twist and turn when I think of Jimmy with another?  


Then I saw it.  


Jealousy. Jealousy, pointing out of me like horns. Sick, disgusting, and repressed feelings from my childhood were bubbling up through hot tears in my eyes. The image of me and Jimmy sleeping in the same bed, and my young imagination playing with the idea of his skin. His skin, which followed me through high school, through college. His flesh, his hands, and those eyes, which I thought I’d forgotten, but now had to be faced with every single day.  


I think I’m going to vomit if I picture Jimmy under anyone other than me.

… 

Jim walked out the grocery store, one of his arms cradling a full bag like a heavy child. He felt his phone buzz in his back pocket, quickly digging and receiving it. He opened it up, seeing it was a call from his sweet little Sebastian. Though he loved his voice, he wasn’t really in the mood for business. “Hello dear, make it quick. I’m trying to be domestic-”  


“Sir, the press is reporting me as a missing person. My coworkers are calling me nonstop, and I don’t-” Jim listened to the young man shakily inhale. “I don’t know why this is happening, I’m sure the police will be at my door any minute- What should I do?” James paused, his face tense with confusion.  


“...Let them take you. I’m sure you’re an excellent liar.”  


“And… if they request your presence?” Jim’s brows raised, and he smiled. Sherlock must be looking for him.  


“Have them call me.” 

… 

“What’s on your mind?” I asked, looking over Jimmy. The dark, cool shade of the trees couldn’t hide his drifting mind from me. Golden sunlight only accentuated the creases of stress on his face, and made the disgusting desires within me twist. He glanced at my eyes before looking back down to the ground and slipping his hands into his pockets with a sigh.  


“Just thinking about you.” My eyes widened briefly, but I tried to stay calm. I slowed my walking to a halt, looking at him.  


“Me?”  


“Yes, you.” He chuckled, making eye contact with me. “I’ve been thinking about… you and your grandmother. That Lucille was an interesting woman.” A chill ran through me at the very mention of her name. “It made me wonder… why move so far from a woman you were so close to your whole life, and not give her a single visit? But when she dies, you come running back to your sweet little home. Now, why is that?” Jimmy’s face was blank, a cold stare in his eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me before I could utter a word. “No need to lie, I already know the truth.” He took a step towards me, tilting his head when I visibly squirmed.  


“Jimmy-”  


“You weren’t selfish, at least, not by my standards.” I backed up as he got closer until I felt my back press up against a tree. Jimmy made his slow strides towards me until our faces were only mere inches apart. “You were scared, cowering before this woman your whole life. I remember the way she swore at you-” His mouth stayed slacked open slightly, his eyes trailing down towards my lips. It felt as if his words were sitting on his tongue, ready to shoot into my skin like poison darts. “Remember when she caught us in the same bed, sleeping and holding each other?” He looked back to my eyes and smiled.  


“I remember…” I nodded slowly. He leaned forward, tilting his head and letting his mouth softly hover against my ear.  


“It was my idea that we sleep together,” He whispered. I could feel his breath tickle my neck, the warmth making me tense up and purse my lips. Jimmy let out a small giggle, his hands slowly drifting to mine, and holding them. His touch felt like heaven, his thumbs pressing, oh, so gently against the back of my hands. “Remember how she tore you from the bed,” He hissed, his grip suddenly tightening as he pulled me against him. Our chests were touching, and I could feel the warmth of his body against mine. I couldn’t help but gasp, knowing that Jimmy could definitely feel that my blood had started flowing down south moments ago.  


“Jim,” My tone was stern, but the facade quickly cleared up with the waver in my voice, and the pink heat filling my face. He backed his face away from my ear, a sickening grin plastered across it. His eyes made a slow descent to look down, to look upon the mess he had made of me.  


“Hellooo,” He sang softly, lifting his knee up and pressing it against the bulge that had formed in my pants. I closed my eyes, breathing heavily through my nose as the situation overwhelmed me. “Did I excite you, my dear?” He drawled out, letting go of my hands. “I watched as Lucille beat you, and shamed you. Right in front of me! The woman had no shame when it came to her horrid opinions.” He could feel me twitch under him, which made him press harder. “She would be red with anger if she knew that her sweet grandson was _still_ under the thumb of a dirty little ‘fag’. That’s how she would have phrased it. I have a bit more class.”  


Something within me snapped at those words, and I felt like my head was going to explode. I pushed him down to the ground, it was so easy it almost felt like he let me push him. He wheezed, his lungs emptying from the impact, but he wore a childish smile on his face.  


“Oooh, the introvert wants to play tough now?” He taunted, staying on the ground. “I’ll play. Do your worst to me, I know you want to!” I stared down at him, breathing heavily as the images of him under Molly shot through my mind. Slowly, I walked over him, sitting down right on his lap. His brows raised, and he laughed at the serious expression on my face. I leaned down, letting my hands wrap around his smooth, pale neck. God, his neck... The big smile on his face faltered, and I could feel his body grow tense under me.  


I pressed my thumbs down against his throat gently, not quite enough pressure to cut anything off yet. “Is this what you like?” I whispered the question, watching his eyes become lidded. He pressed his lips together, breathing heavily through his nose as we stared each other in the eyes. Friend to friend, enemy to enemy. Finally, I pressed down my thumbs, causing him to gasp and smile when he found that he couldn’t breathe. Both of us knew this wasn’t safe, but the danger tingled as radiant heat within our bodies. I squeezed _hard_ , watching his face grow pink and his hands begin to twitch and claw at the grass. A chuckle fell from my lips, my brain going a million miles an hour as I hissed out:  


“Just like how your little girlfriend did it, huh?”  


Jimmy’s expression went from pleasure to complete rage at my words, his eyes becoming wide and manic. He began to struggle under me, and I immediately let go and got off of him. “I-I’m sorry, was that too far? I haven’t done anything like this before-” I sputtered out the excuses.  


He sat up slowly, putting a hand to his throat and gasping, glaring daggers up at me. “What… what did you say?” He wheezed out. “How did you know she did that?”  


“I-I, I ahm… I read the-” He shot up, his face twisting in anger at my words.  


“OH MY GOD!” His voice was weak from the lack of air, but his scream made me feel nothing less than fear through my body. “You read my messages, didn’t you? That’s why my phone is missing-” He stared at me, making me feel so, so small. He hesitated before asking, “Did you text anyone…?”  


“Well, I-” Pain exploded in the right side of my face, making me stumble and clutch at the forming bruise. I cowered and looked at him, seeing that his hand was still balled up in a fist.  


“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He shouted, suddenly grabbing me by the shirt collar and forcing me to stumble behind him.  


“Where are we going?!” I cried, not able to keep back the tears that ran down my face.  


“I’m taking you home so you can fix the mess _you_ made.”  


When we got back into the house, I was shaking. “Where is it?” He commanded, and I led him to my room. He watched me dig through my clothes to find the phone. “Sit on the bed,” he growled, and I did as he told me. I held the phone in my hand, looking up at him with wide, dumb eyes. “You should be receiving a call any minute now, so I want you to tell the man on the other line what I tell you. Got it?” It seemed like he was coming up with the plan on the fly, but I nodded in understanding. “Good. I’ll text you what you’ll say.” A quick smile went over his face. “It’s better that way, my handwriting is horrid. Now, get out your real phone as well. Or did you steal that too?” I didn’t laugh at his cruel jokes, but did as I was told. We both stayed there, waiting for his phone to ring. “Any minute now…” He whispered, holding his phone in one hand, ready to text me.  


I flinched when the phone rang, seeing it was from the number I recognized as Sherlock. I opened it up, staring down at my own phone to wait for messages from Jimmy.  


“Jim’s nice friend Sebastian has told me that if I want to make any progress here, that I should talk to you directly. Now, tell me, is Jim with you?” I took in Sherlock’s cold tone and watched ‘Jim’ quickly type. When I received the message, I read as calmly as I could.  


“He’s sleeping right now, so unfortunately he can’t come to the phone. What is it that you want?”  


Sherlock stayed silent for a few painful seconds before replying, “Don’t play games with me. I know you’re keeping Jim locked up because you don’t like others playing with your _toys_. I want to find you, and perhaps give you a few years in jail for charges of domestic violence.”  


“What makes you so sure you’ll find me?” I asked, trying to seem as genuine as possible. I had to keep myself from wincing, I could feel the bruise on my cheek swelling.  


“Because I love a good chase.” Me and Jim stared at each other, waiting for Sherlock to say more. “Give me Jim’s last name.”  


“No.”  


“... Then give me a name. Any name will do.”  


“Then I’ll give you mine.” I read out, trying to hide my confusion. “Moriarty.” I held back a gasp as the word left my lips, memories of Lucille greeting ‘Mr. Moriarty’ suddenly flooded back. “Good bye, Mr. Holmes. Oh, and P.S., if you’re ever to come near us again… I will hurt every little thing that is precious to you. With a smile on my face, I will knock down every wall you have built until you are crushed and suffocated.”  


I felt the phone get tugged out of my hand, my wide eyes watching Jim snap the device in half.


	18. Chapter 18

Silence filled the room as we both stared at the broken phone on the ground. Jim was the first to break the silence, glaring at me. His nostrils were flaring, and I could almost imagine bull horns poking out of his head. “I should’ve killed you.”  


I stared at him, furrowing my brows. “Why didn’t you?” I asked, the words pouring out of me like a heavy rain. His mouth opened and closed quickly, and for once his tongue was tied.  


After a few moments, he answered, “You entertain me.” 

… 

Sherlock’s mouth stayed open after he’d been hung up on. John anxiously glanced from the phone to Sherlock’s pale face, which had now slowly turned into a grin.  


“This is very interesting.”

… 

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, following behind Jim as he went down to the living room. His face was pink and I could see a vein popping out in his neck. The stress was making me dizzy, so I sat down on the couch and held my head. “I worry about you, I do-” I anxiously watched Jim pace back and forth, he was obsessively running his fingers through his hair. He was running them through so hard I was afraid he might start pulling it out.  


He suddenly stopped his pacing, letting his hands fall from his hair and just letting his arms stay limp at his sides. His hands were shaking, his lips pressed together tight, like he was trying to keep in every insult he could think of. We made eye contact, but Jim quickly broke it to look at the floor. He was looking anywhere but my face. “Fuck…” he whispered, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.  


“Is there anything I can do…?” I asked weakly. No reply. “Your… your name. You lied to me. Why?”  


“Because I know you’re no good with names!” He snapped, quickly pinching the bridge of his nose with his left hand. “Because I know so much about you!” He let go of his nose, letting his hand trail down to his throat before touching it lightly. Guilt twisted in my gut when I realized how dark the bruises on his neck had gotten. “How do I look?” He asked, wagging a finger at his throat. The sudden calm shift in his tone jarred me a bit, but I meekly shrugged my shoulders.  


“It looks… painful.” He finally looked at me, staring at my face. I suddenly grew self conscious, becoming hyper aware of how puffy I must look from all the tears-  


“Yours does too.” He hesitated for a few moments before slowly approaching the coach, sitting next to me. For a second I thought about moving away from him, but quickly decided to stay right in my place. I glanced down at his mouth, which was twisting like he was struggling with his own words. “I’m…” he trailed off, lacing his fingers together. Jim shook his head, letting out a cruel yet sad laugh. “Things will have to… change.”  


“How?” I asked, placing a hand on his knee.  


“Don’t touch me,” he quickly pushed my hand away, genuinely wincing. “You’ve done enough harm with those little hands of yours.”  


I swallowed up any hurt pride I had gained from his words, just nodding and smiling to try and reassure myself. “Anything. I will do anything to fix this.” I promised, straightening my posture. He glanced over me and chuckled, I couldn’t help but stare as his canines carefully rested against his lower lip when he smiled. He caught me looking at his mouth, which caused him to smile wider.  


“Anything?” He asked, leaning a bit closer.  


“Anything.” I nodded. “Just tell me the truth. All of it.” He stared at my stern face before sighing, his posture weakening.  


“Of course. I’ll tell you everything, but the price…” he slowly placed his hand over mine, but I didn’t let my body react. I wasn’t sure what was appropriate for him. “You can never have a normal life after I tell you. You must either work for me… or die.” 

“... Work for you?” I raised a brow, now feeling more confused than determined. “Like, as an assistant?” He inhaled through his nose slowly, his grip tightening on my hands.  


“You could see it that way, but that’d be giving you too much credit.” He trailed off, glancing around before letting his eyes trail to the bruise on my cheek. “I’d say a more fitting title would be my ‘pet’.” I felt the air catch in my lungs, a strange nausea filling me. “Oh, you’re sweating!” He pointed out gleefully, placing his pointer and middle finger against my palm. “Don’t be nervous, you have skills. Skills that I’ll need!” He chuckled, making a comically bashful glance towards our coffee table. I followed his gaze, seeing that he was eyeing my computer. “And besides, you’re already screwed. Sherlock now thinks you’re a criminal mastermind. A killer. Even if you try to run, you’ll trip on the puppet strings I’ve tied to you.” I gulped slowly, wanting to get away, wanting to jump out of my skin.  


“He thinks I’m you.” I said dumbly, only because it was all I could think to say.  


He hummed, nodding and making circles against the back of my hand with his thumb. “Does that answer some questions? I know that you were curious. Wondering why your little _crush_ ,” he caught me visibly cringing, tightening his grip on my hand. “Why he was so secretive. The gun, the codes, I admit… I love drama. I made everything so curiously exciting for you. You were a little mouse, and I set the bread crumbs. Though, if I may be honest, I was planning to have you dead before all of this. But… I like you too much.”  


“I thought you were a spy,” I whispered. He laughed, shaking his head.  


“No, no, no! Don’t be silly,” he leaned in towards my ear, breathing softly so as to make the hairs on my neck stand up. “I am much more than a measly spy. I am everywhere. I pay people to kill anyone in my way. I am the definition of _power_.”  


I grimaced, shutting my eyes tight. “Why have a pet then?”  


“Because,” he hissed, now pulling away from me. “You’re talented. With some training, you could maybe act like you have some intelligence. I mean, you did some superb acting on the phone, and not to mention your dedication to picking open locks…” He glanced back at my laptop. “And besides, the market is always looking for coders.” He lifted a hand to my head, patting it gently. His dark eyes watched me squirm. 


End file.
